Slayers: Buffy and the X-Men
by Dylan Wolf
Summary: Buffy Summers is one in a million girl. Slayers are nowhere near as rare as they were in the series. In fact, Buffy's cousin, Scotty, and his friends at Xavier's which is built on a mountainside overlooking Sunnydale, CA, is a Slayer. Problem is, even among Slayers, Buffy's a one in a million; not only a Chosen One, but THE Chosen One. A once in a lifetime apocalyptic Slayer. Joy.
1. Chapter 1

**Slayers**

ARRIVAL:

The bald man in the wheelchair had been very nice and her parents were getting divorced anyway, so Buffy had agreed to come and give his private school a shot. Besides, her cousins, Scott and Chris were already attending there, so it couldn't be too bad. It wasn't like she could have gone back to her old school, anyway; not after the incident that burnt down the gymnasium. It wasn't her fault vampires crashed the Freshman Dance. The Principal didn't believe in vampires, of course, and too many people had seen Buffy mixing with them (fighting them, really, but as usual, that wasn't how anyone remembered it).

Her mom, Joyce, was all cheerful and smiles as she drove Buffy to the school built on a mountain shelf overlooking the town of Sunnydale and the Pacific Ocean beyond it. "I know you're going to like it here, Buffy. It's a fresh start for you; a new beginning. Professor Xavier's academy is very small, but extremely prestigious. Students don't apply to go there, they're invited. You're very lucky and I know you're going to make the most of it . . . . You are going to make the most of it, aren't you?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Mom. I'm going to be okay. Scotty and Chris are attending there. They'll keep me grounded. Best behavior, I promise; Girl Scouts honor."

Joyce was still worried, but did her best to hide it. "Your father and I may no longer be together, but we're still both just a phone call away if you need anything. We both love you very much."

Buffy knew her father, who was staying in LA, loved her, but he'd always been married to his job first. That had been one of the major causes of the divorce. They'd never said, but Buffy was certain that she had been the other major cause. Now her mother was opening a new art gallery in San Jose, so she'd be insanely busy as well. Buffy knew that as soon as Joyce dropped her off, she was on her own. They had their own lives and didn't deserve to be dragged into the madness that was hers . . . whether she wanted it or not.

The road leading up to the estate housing the school was long, steep and winding, but not so much as to make the town below difficult to reach. The brochure Buffy had been given said the structure had originally been built in upstate New York, then moved out to California brick by brick in the fifties. It certainly looked beautiful as they passed through the main gate and drove up the long drive to the loop in front of the main entrance. Scott and the Professor were all waiting on the front porch as Joyce pulled the car to a stop.

Buffy almost leaped out of the car and bounded up the steps to wrap Scott in a bear hug. "Scotty!"

Scott received the enthusiastic hug with great aplomb. "Good to see you, small fry."

Scott had been blind since the plane crash that claimed the lives of his and Chris' parents, but he often said he could see things others missed.

"I'm not that small," Buffy insisted. "I had a growth spurt since your last visit."

He cleared his throat. "I noticed. You're definitely not the scrawny little tom boy with skinned up knees who kept getting under foot."

"It's good to see you, Scott." Joyce slipped in with a hug of her own. "My, how you have grown. How's Chris?"

"Always a pleasure, Aunt Joyce," Scott responded affectionately. "Chris is fine. He'd have been here, but he's a little under the weather. He wanted me to give you a hug and his love. We were very sorry to hear about you and Uncle Hank. How are you doing?"

She smiled. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Things happen and marriages end. I'll always love Hank, but it was time for both of us to move on."

Buffy's parents had taken Scott and Chris in after the crash and cared for them for three years, until Professor Xavier entered their lives and brought them to the school. Now Buffy was joining them. It was definitely going to be interesting.

Joyce turned to Xavier. "I want to thank you again, Professor, for inviting Buffy to attend your school."

"The thanks, Mrs. Summers, are mine," Charles insisted, "for you and your husband permitting her to accept my invitation. I believe you'll be very happy here, Buffy. Would you both like to have a tour of our facilities?"

"I'm afraid I can't," Joyce told him. "As much as I hate it, I have just enough time to drop Buffy off and get back on the road. I just found out this morning that I have to be in San Jose to sign the final papers for my new store before this evening. I'd hoped to have at least a couple of days to help Buffy settle in."

"It's okay, Mom," Buffy tried not to sound desperate as she assured her mother and took Scott by the arm. "Go take care of it. I'll be fine. See, this is me fitting in. Scotty and Chris will take good care of me."

ORIENTATION:

As soon as Buffy's belongings were unloaded and Joyce drove off, Xavier seemed to relax perceptibly. "Scott, I asked Peter to take Buffy's things up to her room. Would you assist him when he gets here? As soon as you're finished, everyone is gathering in the dining hall for introductions. Buffy, if you would come with me, we can get your orientation taken care of. I must say we've been waiting for your arrival for some time."

With only a hint of trepidation, Buffy followed the Professor. "So, this is where you tell me all the rules and give me the school pep talk?"

Xavier smiled. "I believe you'll find Xavier's to be a different experience than any other school you've ever attended. I must say, by the way, that I'm quite impressed with the way you dealt with those vampires last May; a little more public than would be hoped, but an impressive first outing."

Buffy came up short, for once in her life shocked almost to silence. "Wait? You know about that? What's going on here?"

 _Be at ease, Buffy, you're among friends._ The way Xavier's voice just appeared in her head, should have thrown her off, but she'd experienced telepathy before.

"You're a Watcher?" Now she was actually starting to get a little angry.

"Your previous Watcher, Mr. Pryce, was one of my more gifted pupils." The Professor remained calm and attempted to be reassuring. "May he rest in peace."

Memories of May flooded Buffy's memories unwanted. Wesley had a major stick up his butt, but he hadn't deserved to die like that. Shaking her head and taking a step away from Xavier, Buffy fought back a tear that had been forming.

"That's not me anymore," she insisted, knowing it was futile. "I did my duty. I did my Slayer thing. Now I just want to live a normal life. I never asked for any of this."

"'Into every generation . . .'" Xavier intoned.

". . . Slayers are born.'" Buffy interrupted him angrily. "'Children with the power to fight back the darkness.' I know the story. Find someone else. I'm not your girl. I want nothing to do with any of this."

"I'm afraid," Xavier told her calmly, "you'll find people like us seldom get the choice. Like it or not, you were chosen. So were your cousins and everyone at this school. I founded this Academy to help Slayers train and band together for mutual support. It won't help to deny your responsibilities. Slayers are drawn to extra-dimensional conflict and it's drawn to them. Dr. McCoy and I have even theorized that it's written in our very DNA."

Buffy stopped short; she didn't want to think about the last comment, so she focused on the one before it. "Wait a minute. I thought this Slayer rap was supposed to be all Lone Rangery. Wesley told me it was a one Slayer and one Watcher together against the world kind of thing."

"That's how it's been down through the ages, Buffy." Xavier's displeasure with the policy was evident. "Look what it's got us. Wesley died protecting you. When I wasn't much older than you are, my spine was shattered in a battle with a demon. I understand that Slayers in each generation are few, but there has to be a better way."

He paused as they reached a pair of massive and ornate wooden doors. "A Slayer's average life expectancy is twenty one. Did you know that? I wouldn't think so. It's not something they like to announce. I'm determined to change that statistic."

He turned to her, his passion obvious. "Each of us has the strength, agility, reflexes, stamina, recuperative powers, sensory abilities and genetic memory to go toe to toe with vampires and most common demons. In addition, we each have special gifts that make us unique. Although blind, Scott can perceive auras. He also has a kind of tactile spatial awareness and an instinctive understanding of trajectories and spatial geometry that make him a truly deadly archer. Chris can run and move incredibly fast and has even broken the sound barrier more than once. As a matter of fact, over the generations, the Summers family, like my own, has produced a surprising number of Slayers. Both their father and your grandfather were Slayers, as a matter of fact."

The Professor's expression saddened. "That's another problem with the lone Slayer mentality. Demons aren't always rampaging monsters. Many of them are highly intelligent and well organized. The Summers and Xavier clans have long been suspected of producing Slayers. When a certain group was able to prove the connection between my family and Slayers, they hunted down and killed every one of my relatives. I'm the last surviving member of my entire clan. Should this same group, or any of a number of other similar groups, ever confirm that yours is one of what scholars call the Twelve Families, they'll do the same to everyone you love. Only the fact that such a culling is all but impossible to cover up prevents them from doing so based on suspicion alone. I created this school, in part, to help prevent that from ever happening again."

Now he had Buffy's attention. "So, all Slayers come from one of these twelve families?"

He smiled. "Hardly, but each of the Twelve Families has a long tradition of slaying and the War of Shadows. At one time or another, each has been all but exterminated, only to be rediscovered generations later living under new names. In other situations, a Slayer's identity has been discovered and their entire family wiped out on the false belief that they were one of the Twelve."

Buffy slumped against the wall of the hallway. "Wow; you're all kinds of cheerful, aren't ya? Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse. You said you had an idea to change all of this. What's that all about?"

"Glad you asked," Xavier responded as the doors before them swung automatically open, revealing a massive library beyond. "This is the Library, Buffy. Here we've gathered copies of virtually every tome ever written regarding the Shadow War. If knowledge is power, this chamber poses an even greater danger to our enemies than we do."

"I doubt that, Professor." An average man with glasses and a raspy English accent stepped out from between rows of shelves. He was carrying a massive tome and his throat was heavily scarred. "It's merely a tool. Without the Slayers, it's just a big room filled with lots of dusty old books."

Xavier let the old debate die. "Buffy, this is Rupert Giles; Librarian, Chief Researcher and History Teacher. Mr. Giles was once a Slayer with formidable sonic powers, until his throat was nearly ripped out in a battle. He recovered his voice, but not his powers, I'm afraid. Now we've both found new ways to serve, as teachers and guides of the next generation; jointly this time, instead of individually."

"Whether the Council likes it or not," Giles added with a wry almost grin.

Xavier quickly, but smoothly changed the subject. "You'll meet the third member of our faculty, Dr. McCoy, later. He's our chief scientist and weapons designer, as well as being the school's physician. He's scheduled to give you a full physical this afternoon."

"I need a physical?" Buffy was appropriately distracted. "I thought . . . I mean the whole Slayer stamina and recuperation thingy . . . ."

"Physicals are required after every major mission like your battle last May. Vampires and demons carry diseases that can remain dormant for months, even years. Many are fatal, but nearly all are treatable if diagnosed soon enough. Since you only fought vampires, it wasn't a high priority, but it's a safe precaution. We need to establish your baseline, anyway. Not to worry. We've yet to encounter anything Dr. McCoy can't treat."

Buffy wasn't sure how to take that, but Xavier went on seemingly oblivious. "That's for later, however. Mr. Giles, give Buffy an overview of what we're facing?"

"Quite right." Giles fiddled with cleaning his glasses and launched into a story he'd obviously told numerous times. "Certain areas of the Earth have weaknesses in the walls that separate our reality with the myriad others out there. Such places are called Hellmouths. Sunnydale sits on the largest; most active Hellmouth in over a century."

Buffy nodded and turned to Xavier. "So, it's a major source of bad juju, which is probably why you moved your mansion here. Kind of wondered what a town of just over five thousand needed with nine cemeteries."

"I'm glad to see you read the brochures I gave you." Xavier smiled.

Buffy laughed sardonically. "It was a long drive and Mom and I accidentally packed my mp3 player in one of my boxes. I had to do something to keep my sanity."

"I'm certain," Giles said with typical British aplomb. "In addition to a large vampire infestation, Sunnydale is plagued by threats from every dimension the Hellmouth intersects. If something vile and inexplicable is going to happen, it's a high probability it will be here."

Buffy nodded. "In otherwise the perfect place to raise a family . . . or build a private school. Got it."

"Quite." Giles was unimpressed with her grasp of the gravity of the situation, but let it pass for now.

With a nod from Giles, Xavier took over Buffy's orientation again. "Now, if you'll follow me, it's time to get your course of study set up and familiarize you with the mansion's computer system."

"Joy," Buffy responded with all the excitement of one being told they were going to spend the summer with their boring grandparents.

It only took fifteen minutes to set Buffy's computer access and get her class schedule completed, but the Professor lost her about half way through. "You'll be taking three courses, plus training, which will appear on your public transcript as PE, here at the school. Classes actually only meet once a week, with the rest of the work being done independently. Dr. McCoy, Mr. Giles and I are available anytime; however, if you need assistance between classes and you're encouraged to work with other students. The fourth member of our faculty, Dr. MacTaggart, splits her time between here and the Muir Island Research Facility off the coast of Scotland. She's been there all summer, but will be returning early next week."

He paused just long enough to make sure she was getting it all. Late assignments are accepted only in the case of mission interference, and not even that is permitted as a regular excuse. Since this is your sophomore year, Slayer History I and Basic Genetics are required courses. You'll also take 10th Grade English, Algebra, Life Science and World History at Sunnydale High School. These have a normal schedule from ten am to three pm. Classes here start first thing in the morning tomorrow. Classes at Sunnydale High School start next week."

He handed her a sheet of paper. "Your final class taken here is an elective chosen from this list. If you don't see something you like, let me know and we'll see if we can accommodate you. Bear in mind, of course, that there is no class in underwater basket weaving at this institution."

Buffy smiled nervously. "Darn, and here I was hoping."

As she looked over her list of options, Buffy quickly realized that whatever else Xavier might be running; he was deadly serious about education. There were no skate courses in the curriculum. Everything looked like a challenge.

"I'm just a tiny bit overwhelmed," she admitted.

Xavier smiled pleasantly. "Although all three of us try to make learning as hands on and enjoyable as possible, several students have expressed particular interest in Dr. McCoy's Computer Programming class. The class projects he's come up with have never failed to be . . . fascinating."

He paused long enough to realize she didn't have a clue. "Tell you what. There's no need to make your decision immediately. Why don't we go introduce you to the other students? They might have some suggestions that you'll find helpful. You can tell me your decision in the morning."

STUDENT BODY:

Seeing Buffy's relieved expression, Xavier took her to the dining hall where the other students were waiting to meet her. Normally very self-assured, Buffy suddenly began feeling self-conscious instead.

"About time," an attractive brunette with a sour expression said caustically. "I have better things to do than sit around waiting for the new kid to show up."

That was all it took to break Buffy from her discomfort, but Scott spoke up before she could. "That will be all, Destiny. Welcome to Xavier's, Buffy. You'll have to forgive Cordelia; she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, this eon."

"Well, I never . . . ." the brunette cast a look at Scott that would have peeled paint.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, dear," Buffy came back acidly.

Cordelia was livid, but speechless. Professor Xavier just closed his eyes and pinched his nose. Several people around the room looked shocked. A couple even giggled nervously. A red head actually walked up and gave Buffy a hug.

"Jean Grey," she said. "The brunette with the smoke coming out of her ears is Cordelia Chase. Scott's told us all about you. Until now, I thought he was exaggerating. I think you're going to fit right in around here. Anyone who can make Cordelia speechless can handle about anything."

A cute, but mousy girl in pink overalls with a cartoon cat on the bib came up next. "Hi. I'm Willow; Willow Pryde. So nice to finally meet you."

A somewhat geeky young man accompanying her took Buffy's hand and shook it a little too enthusiastically. "Xander Drake, at your service. If you need any help with school stuff, Willow's your girl. She's the smartest girl in the school."

Willow blushed adorably. "Xander, you're embarrassing me."

"If I'm lyin' I'm dyin'," he insisted.

"So nice to meet both of you." Buffy laughed lightly as Willow seemed extremely interested in her own shoes and Xander seemed to have forgotten to let go of her hand. "Can I have that back, now? I'm kind of used to having two of them."

"Oh, sure, of course, I mean . . . ." Xander stammered, suddenly trying to find a place to put his hands.

"Cool it down, lover boy, she's so far out of your league, it's not even funny." Chris had risen painfully from his seat and limped over to greet his cousin. "Good to see you again, Buff. Sorry I couldn't say hi to Aunt Joyce, but I'd have had a little trouble explaining my injuries without a lot more questions than we like to have around here."

"What happened?" She asked; immediately concerned.

"We took out a vamp hive last night," Scott told her. "Someone let himself get distracted, and half a dozen vampires took advantage of the opportunity. The kid who can break the sound barrier let himself be caught flat footed. If Kendra hadn't been on the spot, he could have really been hurt. As it is, he's got some cuts and scrapes, some bruised ribs and torn muscles, a sprained ego and is on the injured reserve list for a few days."

"Kendra?"

"That would be me." The black woman stood easily six feet tall and moved with consummate grace. It was her bright blue eyes and luxurious platinum blonde hair, however, that stood out most. "Kendra Monroe."

"Well, Kendra Monroe," Buffy accepted the offered hand shake. "Thanks for saving my idiot cousin's bacon."

As unnoticed, Professor Xavier slipped out of the room to let the students get to know each other; two more young men remained to be introduced. One was a small built man with spiked red hair who looked and dressed every inch a rocker. The other was a giant, with sandy hair and a shy smile, who, at 6' 4", dwarfed everyone else in the room.

"Peter Riley Finn." The giant's hand dwarfed hers as he gently shook it. "Most people call me Riley."

"Oz Wagner," the rocker swaggered forward before Buffy could find her voice to respond to Riley's greeting. "My band's playing the Bronze tonight. Since we actually have a night off for a change, everyone was going to head down there after dinner. You'd be welcome to join us."

"Oh," Cordelia said spitefully, regaining her bearings, "a big city girl like her wouldn't be interested in our little Bronze. I'd guess a biker bar would be more her style."

"What's the Bronze?" If Buffy's interest hadn't been piqued already, Cordelia's comments would have pushed her into it.

"Only the coolest place in all of Sunnydale," Willow responded exuberantly. "It's also the only teen club in town."

"Sounds great," Buffy responded with a little exuberance of her own. "I'm always up for a party. It's a date."

Chris directed her to a large table they were all sitting around. It was laden with all the makings of cold sandwiches. "So, other than the standard stuff we all have, what's your special ability. Scott and I manifested early. We were wondering if you were ever going to."

"It's not all that useful, really." Realizing how hungry she was, she started assembling a large sandwich. "I can generate a big flash of light that causes vamps to go poof. It's real . . . flashy, but I can only do it once without resting and it pretty much exhausts me. It's useful if I can get everything with one shot, but if anything survives, I'm pretty much screwed."

"Is that how you got your Watcher killed?" Ophelia was sitting at the far end of the table, but still within easy earshot of the conversation.

Seeing the rage rise in Buffy, Scott quickly interjected. "You'll have to forgive Cordelia, Buffy. She's a limited precog, but she also seems to have developed the uncanny ability say the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment."

"It's okay, Scott," Buffy assured him as she quickly got control of her temper. "One of the vamps that attacked the dance had a flame thrower, of all things, and really liked using it. After he set the gym on fire, Wesley - - that was my Watcher's name, by the way - - was using his telepathic powers to keep everyone calm and direct the evacuation. He succeeded. Unfortunately, he waited so long to make sure everyone made it out, that he didn't."

Realizing how much the memory still hurt, Scott wrapped an arm around Buffy and hugged her. Following his brother's lead, Chris reached out and squeezed her hand. Silence reined around the table; even Cordelia.

Shaking it off, Buffy tried to reassure her cousins. "I'm good. The memory's just a little raw, still. Wes was a pain in the neck and way to stiff, but he was a good guy when it came right down to it."

Silently, Cordelia got up, left her food and walked stiffly out of the room. Scott shot a glance to Jean, who nodded, then immediately got up and followed the girl.

"Cordelia just discovered her powers in the last few weeks," Scott told Buffy by way of explanation. "She's having a harder time dealing with it than the rest of us. Her family's rich. Down at Sunnydale High, she's the big girl on campus; head cheerleader; most popular and all that. She's feeling like her life has been turned inside out. For a control freak, that's a tough thing to take. As a result, she's miserable and seems determined to make everyone else here miserable. Jean's usually pretty good at calming her down when something like this happens."

"That's no excuse," Chris said with surprising venom. "She needs to deal. We've all had our lives ripped apart. None of us is taking it out on everyone else."

"You did," Buffy reminded him. "When you guys arrived at my house after the plane crash, Chris, you were a major brat who didn't want to talk to anyone and just sat sulking in your room. It took my mom nearly a month to get through to you. Even then, you weren't much fun for quite a while."

"Point," Scott said, obviously unhappy.

"So," Willow brought up in a somewhat lame attempt to lighten the mood. "What elective did you decide to take?"

"I was hoping you guys could help me with that," Buffy responded, grasping the attempt and running with it. "I was a little overwhelmed when Professor Xavier told me the required courses: Slayer History and Genetics of all things, in addition to four classes at Sunnydale High. I was kind of hoping for something easy."

"You came to the wrong school, then." Oz responded with a laugh.

"I figured that out," Buffy frowned.

"Take Dr. McCoy's Computer Programming class," Willow suggested. "Last year we made a really cool computer game. This year, we're going to build and program a robot. He's a great teacher; so funny and so smart and . . . ."

"Easy, Willow," Xander said with a laugh. "Sometimes she gets so excited she forgets to breathe."

"Do not!" She blushed again. "Okay. Maybe sometimes."

Buffy shrugged. "Could do worse, I guess. Okay, Computer Programming, it is."

A few minutes later, something said earlier suddenly came to mind. "Say, Scott, earlier, you called Cordelia by another name; Destiny, or something. What is that, a nick name, a stage name, or what?"

"It's a call sign." Scott wiped his mouth after finishing his second sandwich. "We all have them, even you. Professor insists we use them in the field. True, most of the things we fight don't survive to talk about it, but that's no reason to be lazy. I'm Hawkeye, by the way. A little ironic, but it works. Cordelia is Destiny because of her precognitive powers. Jean's a telekinetic and telepath. She's called Phoenix for reasons you'll have to ask her."

"Havok." Chris waves. "Because that's what I usually leave in my path."

"Gambit," Xander told her. "I charge things that blow up on impact when I throw them."

"Shadowcat," Willow squeaked when Xander elbowed her lightly. "I walk through things and short them out. Dr. McCoy calls it phasing."

"Storm." Kendra smiled. "I control the weather. Vampires like lightning bolts almost as little as stakes."

"Colossus." Riley transformed, becoming about ten feet tall and gaining metallic scales for skin. "I'm pretty strong; even more so in this form."

"I'm called Nightcrawler." Oz said last and a little reluctantly. "You see, I never met my father. About a year ago, I discovered he wasn't from this universe when I changed for the first time."

With that, Oz transformed into a blue furred demon like humanoid with three fingers on each hand, and two toes and a heel spur on each foot. He also had a tail with a spade shaped tip, pointed ears, yellow eyes and very sharp teeth.

"In this form," he continued, "I can teleport, meld with shadows, walk on walls and I'm inhumanly agile. I can also manipulate my tail, great for cheating at poker."

Buffy smiled to show she wasn't bothered by his appearance, even though she was just a little. "Did your mother ever tell you anything about your father? I know I'd have been asking from minute one."

He shrugged. "She abandoned me when I was a baby."

She slapped the palm of her hand to her forehead. "Sorry. I seem to be gaining a taste for shoe leather sandwiches today."

He laughed. "Don't worry about it. I was taken in and raised by some really cool folks. They're my real parents. Besides, you're taking my appearance a lot better than most people do."

Buffy suddenly turns to Scott. "You said Professor Xavier gave me a call sign already. What is it? Not something lame, I hope."

"Your call sign will be Dawnstar," he told her calmly. "He was going to call you something I'm not even going to say here, but I talked him out of it."

"Thanks, cuz." She hugged him. "That would have been really lame. Dawnstar is okay, I guess. Could definitely do a lot worse."

"Got your back, kid." Scott smiled and even chuckled.

"Always have," she said, giving him another hug.

MEETING DR. MCCOY:

That afternoon, Scott took Buffy on her first trip into the mansions labyrinthine sub-levels. "This place is right out of Star Trek or something. I half expect that hunk Jeremy Sisko to be standing around the next corner."

He shook his head at that. "The Professor said that a friendly terrakinetic from another dimension did most of the work."

She looked at him curiously. "A terra-whatsit?"

"Terrakinetic." He laughed. "Someone who manipulates earth and rocks. They're pretty rare, but they exist."

"I thought all demons are evil?" She was confused.

"That's the rule," he informed her, "but there are exceptions. "If you operate under that assumption, it won't steer you too far wrong. There are exceptions, however. Take Oz, for example. He's half demon and looks pretty scary, but once you get past what he considers wit, you won't find a better friend. I'd trust him with my life; so can you."

"By the way," he continued. "Just to prepare you. Tonight, you're going to meet the one exception to the whole vampires being evil thing."

"Say what!?" Buffy stopped dead in her tracks.

Scott shrugged. "It's a long story and I only know parts of it, but here goes. Back during the reign of Elizabeth I, a guy, Warren Worthington III, was heir to his family's fortune. He was a rake who loved women and ale far more than responsibility. One night, at a party, he met a vampire who took a fancy to him. She turned him and Angelus was born; the demon with the face of an angel."

Scott shook his head. "After nearly three centuries of committing atrocity upon atrocity, he made the mistake of turning his attention to a gypsy girl. He toyed with her for months, killing everyone she cared for one by one, until she committed suicide. The gypsies performed a ritual and laid a curse on him. Dr. McCoy thinks they used some kind of extra-dimensional technology, but he doesn't believe in magic. However they did it, they returned his soul to his body. Now, instead of being a remorseless, amoral monster, he was a cursed man with a human conscience who fully and painfully remembered every vile act he'd committed since being turned."

"That's gotta suck . . . even for a vampire."

"He's still around today." Scott ignored the pun; hoping it was unintentional, but not certain. "He calls himself Angel and he owns the Bronze. It's a no vamp, no demon zone. He has some kind of wards up to keep them out. Even Oz can't change to his demon form while he's inside the club. It's the only safe place in Sunnydale for kids to gather without fear of vampires. He's also helped us with information more than once. I don't fully trust him, but he does seem determined to carry out that redemption thing of his."

As they reached the infirmary, Scott suddenly pulled up short. "Wait a minute. You haven't met Dr. McCoy before, have you? Well, you're in for a treat, but I'd better prepare you first. The Doc is as brilliant as he thinks he's funny. If there's something about the science of being a Slayer he doesn't know, no one else knows either. A few years back, he was hunting a werewolf and got bit. He says the lycanthropic enzymes mixed with his Slayer biology and created an interesting effect. His call sign even before the attack was Beast. Now, it's even more appropriate."

With that, Scott opened the door, revealing a massive creature wearing a lab coat and spectacles. He was covered in shaggy blue-black fur; his hands and feet more closely resembled paws and his head . . . . It didn't look wolfish exactly; more leonine.

"You must be Buffy." His voice was cultured and gregarious. "So nice to meet you. Not to worry, this won't hurt at all and won't take long. Thank you for bringing her here, Scott. You may leave now. Not to worry, Buffy. I don't bite."

As Scott kissed her on the forehead and left, Buffy stared at Dr. McCoy in disbelief; trying to sort through all the conflicting data she was getting.

Realizing what she was going through Dr. McCoy waited for a moment before breaking her reverie. "We can get started as soon as Ms. Grey arrives. She helps me with the exams of the female students. She just sent me a telepathic message that she's on her way. Something about having to talk Cordelia down off a ledge. I assume she's joking. Is there something you want to ask me? I can assure you it won't hurt my feelings."

The random thought running through her mind at that moment became the first thing she had to say. "Can I touch it? Your fur, I mean."

"Of course you can." Even his jovial laugh helped put her at ease as he reached an arm out to her. "Just don't scratch my ears . . . it makes my leg tremble something fierce when people scratch my ears. It's enjoyable, but hardly dignified."

She reached out and touched the back of his hand. "Wow. It's so soft."

He smiled. "You don't even want to know what I spend each month on conditioner and shampoo."

At that moment, Buffy realized she was home. She hadn't let her mother know, but she'd been worried she wouldn't fit in. So far, however, everyone had treated her so well . . . everyone but Cordelia, that is. It was nearly impossible not to feel optimistic. She just hoped that wasn't a sign of an axe about to fall.


	2. Chapter 2

THE BRONZE:

After dinner, they loaded into a large van driven by Scott. Even Cordelia was there, although her attitude and mood hadn't changed and she expressively ignored Buffy. Buffy could care less. She preferred the company of Xander, Willow and her cousins more; not to mention Riley and Jean . . . heck, she was enjoying the company of the whole group. It was nice to have others to talk to who understood what you were going through; particularly, the Slayer stuff.

"Where's Oz?" She looked around the van, realizing he wasn't with them.

"He went down ahead." Scott kept both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. "Sound checks and warm up and that sort of thing."

"He can drive?" As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized how dumb that had to sound. "Forget I asked that. He doesn't need to drive. Duh."

As she laughed at herself, the others joined in . . . except Cordelia, that is. She was just frustrated that Buffy had corrected herself before she could rub her nose in the mistake. Sooner or later, she was determined to get even with little Miss Buffy Summers.

The Bronze was located in a converted warehouse on the edge of an industrial district. The front of the building was brightly lit, but the sides and rear were lost in shadows. Word was you didn't want to go into those shadows. Inside, the place had a look of organized chaos. Mismatched booths, tables, chairs and even a couple of wooden picnic tables were aesthetically scattered around, leaving a large dance floor in the center of the cavernous chamber. Along one wall, there was a bar that sold non-alcoholic beverages, snacks and fast food at fairly reasonable prices. Across from the entrance was a small bandstand with some decent lighting. Above floor level were assorted catwalks and platforms where various cliques of kids hung out.

As soon as they entered the room, Cordelia walked away like she didn't know them and made a beeline for a group of girls who greeted her with phony hugs, squeals and kisses . . . cheerleaders. Buffy knew the type. Heck, she'd been one before Wesley showed up and turned her life inside out. Now days, she preferred the company of real people.

Dozens of speakers hung from the walls all around the room, blaring music loud enough to deafen anyone over thirty. As she started moving in synch with the music, Buffy watched the others. Scott and Jean immediately paired up and hit the dance floor. That relationship bore watching. Willow seemed like a fish out of water and Xander was trying to be cool, but failing miserably. Kendra haunted the periphery of the growing crowd and made her way to one of the stairways leading to the catwalks. Chris, who was already healing, barely limped as he made his way to the bar to feed the bottomless pit he called a stomach. Buffy had always marveled at how someone could eat so much and stay so thin. Then again, she'd been known to put away some serious foodage herself. In fact, that seemed a common trait to all Slayers.

Finally, she turned her attention to Riley. For some reason, she found watching the large man fascinating. He was an enigma. On this night, he made his way up to a balcony with a drawing pad and began sketching whatever caught his interest. Who did that?

A moderately tall and gawkish young man with dirty blonde hair approached Xander and Willow. "Hey, guys. What, you get accepted to some preppy private school and your old buddies suddenly aren't good enough to hang out with?"

"Come on, Jesse," Xander countered. "You know that's not true. We just hung out together last week. Besides, we'll still be taking four classes a day at Sunnydale High. It's not like you'll never see us."

"So," Jesse said with what he thought was a sexy grin. "Who's the gorgeous blonde you came in with? Are all the girls at Xavier's such foxes?"

"Buffy," Xander said with a roll of his eyes, "I'd like to introduce you to Willow's and my best bud, Jesse McNally. Jesse, this is Buffy Summers, she's Scott and Chris' cousin, so get your mind out of the gutter."

"Pleased to meet you, Jesse." Buffy smiled. "I literally arrived in town this morning, so I can use all the new friends I can get."

"The pleasure's all mine, Buffy." His hand was a little clammy as they shook.

He turned to Willow. "So, I saw that the lovely Cordelia Chase arrived with you as well. You guys chums? Think you could put in a good word for me? Tell her how great a kisser I am."

Willow looked confused. "I don't know how great a kisser you are. You've never kissed me. In fact, I don't think I've seen you ever kiss anyone but your mother."

Jesse feigned injury. "Ouch. Shot through the heart and by a friend no less. You couldn't just pad my resume a bit so I could have a shot at her?"

Xander interjected. "Just because we're attending Xavier's with Cordelia doesn't mean she's any more willing to acknowledge our existence than she was before. Besides, she's so far out of your league. She'd probably break you in half if you even said hello to her."

"Ah, but what a way to go." Jesse laughed.

Buffy slowly drifted away from the geek trio when suddenly, her attention was drawn to a tall, athletic, blonde, ruggedly handsome, dark older man of indeterminate age who was approaching her. Something about him stood out from the rest of the crowd. It was almost like a predator had just entered the room. Buffy knew that look. She'd seen it on virtually every vampire she'd ever fought. For that matter, she'd seen it in the mirror more than once. It took a predator to know a predator and Buffy felt like she knew this man.

"You must be Buffy Summers," he said as he took her hand, bowed and kissed it. "I'm Angel. I run this club. Can I assume your friends told you at least a bit about me?"

"It seems they told you about me, at least." She was on guard, but could tell that this predator wasn't hunting. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Angel."

He released her hand. "Just Angel. And no. I have many sources and your arrival has been expected."

"Is that good or bad?" If he was going to play mystery games, she'd play along for the moment.

"Yes." The response was very direct. "I don't know how much Xavier has told you, Buffy, but you are a very special young woman. If you ever need help or information, I'm at your service."

She wasn't sure just what to say at that point, but Angel wasn't finished. "I have a message for Mr. Giles. Tell him that I said The Master has been stirring and something big is up. I've been hearing rumors of something called 'the Harvest'. I'm not sure what it is, but I have feelers out and what they're telling me doesn't sound good. Also let him know that Selene has been spotted in town and others are definitely on their way."

"Master, Harvest, Selene; got it." She wasn't sure why she was being so cooperative. "Wait a minute, why don't you just tell him yourself. There's this wonderful little invention called the telephone, maybe you've heard of it? Better yet, you could just drop by the school for tea some evening."

He almost smiled at her pluck; inwardly, at least. Outwardly, his dour expression changed little . . . ever. "Telephones can be tapped and your school has even better wards than the Bronze."

With that, he faded into the crowd just as she was about to come back with a witty retort. She immediately started looking for the others. She quickly saw Scott, Chris, Jean, Xander and Willow gathered around one of the picnic tables, so she headed over there.

"So, what did Angel have to say?" Scott asked before she even sat down.

She shrugged. "He wanted me to tell Mr. Giles about some Master stirring, something called the Harvest coming and someone named Selene being spotted in town. He's a real fascinating conversationalist."

Scott turned to Jean, who nodded and moved to sit next to Buffy. "Angel's info is usually pretty solid, so we better get this back to the Professor and Mr. Giles right away. Will you allow me access your memories of the conversation so I can relay it telepathically to the school? I promise I won't look at anything else."

Buffy had done this sort of thing with Wesley before. She'd never really liked it, but if Scott thought it was important, she wasn't going to argue. She nodded slowly; not trusting herself to speak and let Jean place her hands on her forehead.

For Buffy, it didn't seem like anything had happened. She tried to concentrate on the conversation, then Jean returned her hands to her lap and stared off into space for a few minutes. Her mental touch had been so light, Buffy hadn't even felt it.

Three minutes of nervously banal conversation later, Jean looked up. "Mr. Giles is looking into it. Since we're already here, the Professor suggested we do a little research from this end."

"What's that mean?" Buffy was sure her evening had just ended.

Scott looked around the table. "It means we go hunting and see if we can find a talkative vamp."

Chris nodded. "You want me along?"

Scott declined. "You haven't been cleared for field duty yet. Make the rounds and let the others know what's up. Tell Oz that we're sorry we missed his first set. Hopefully, we'll be back before his second one. We shouldn't have to go far to find what we're looking for."

Buffy was impressed with the way the group moved; as a unit that had trained long and hard at just such a thing. They quickly led her out into the parking lot where Scott opened the back of the van. There was a case built into the floor there, behind the rear bench. A palm scanner was built into the top of it. Scott pressed his hand to the scanner and the chest opened.

"The coast is clear," Jean informed them shortly. "The only people anywhere around are way too busy to notice us. Trust me."

Willow looked at her innocently for a moment, then suddenly blushed, then reached for her wrist watch and turned an outer dial. Xander and the others were doing the same with their own watches. Suddenly, the clothes they were wearing mystically transformed into uniforms. All looked like leather and fit their forms closely, but each had assorted personalized touches. Scott's included a hood that fell back to reveal a blindfold when he reached into the case to extract a compound bow and a quiver of arrows. Jean's hugged her curves like a second skin and included a pair of high tech shades instead of a mask. Willow had a long skirt over her leggings that was slit on one side all the way to the belt. Both Willow and Xander wore face masks that concealed their features without restricting their vision and left their hair free. Xander was wearing a dark duster over his leathers. All of the costumes were black, but had a large cross motif on the chest and back in white.

"Where's mine?" Buffy was suddenly feeling underdressed.

Scott pulled a watch out of a drawer in the case. "We keep these just in case one of our watches gets damaged or stolen. I'm afraid it's only the basic costume, no personal touches, but it should serve."

Buffy put the watch on and Scott showed her how to activate it. A pleasant static charge ran over her body, changing her clothes to a similar uniform to theirs. "I could get used to this. Does it do anything but costumes?"

"Later." Scott next passed out equipment belts and explained them to Buffy. "Basic vampire array: several stakes, pockets with glass spheres containing holy water, diamond edged wire garrotes incase their needed. Remember, Buffy, younger vampires go to dust when you stake them. Older and more powerful ones take a lot more to kill."

She nodded and as he continued. "Jean and I will take the high road. Xander, Willow, take Buffy on a perimeter sweep around the Bronze. There are usually a few vamps too stupid to realize the place is off limits. Remember, we want at least one for questioning. Everyone clear?"

Each of the others nodded, so Buffy followed suit. She was no slouch at this vampire hunting bit. She'd dusted more than a few both before and after the dance fiasco; more before, admittedly. Around these guys, however, she felt like an amateur.

HUNTING:

 _Don't let it bother you, Buffy._ Jean's voice appeared in her head. _We only seem to have our act this much together because of months of drills. Watch over Willow and Xander. They can get in over their heads some times._

Her sense of duty bolstered, Buffy was suddenly back in her element. Taking point, she stalked the dark streets and alleys surrounding the Bronze on three sides. Her acute night vision pierced all but the deepest shadows. For the first time since the dance, she felt truly alive . . . and it terrified her. She wasn't about to let that stop her, however.

Sure enough, it took them less than half an hour to find trouble. As they entered a dead end alley, Buffy heard the almost non-existent x0e9d0sound of several feet closing in behind them.

She turned to see a group of eight biker movie rejects closing off their exit and spoke with bravado she didn't feel. "Evening, boys. You new in town or just stupid?"

"Hey, sheep." The leader of this bunch sauntered forward. "Whattcha headed to, a costume party? How about ya party with us?"

"Yeah." The slimiest of the eight (which took some doing) chimed in. "We'll show ya a real good time. We might even introduce ya to the Black Queen."

Use of the word "sheep" and certain markings on their leathers suddenly clicked in Buffy's mind. The vamps at the dance had the same markings on their leather jackets and also called humans "sheep". One of the party crashers had even said something about 'the Black Queen', but Buffy had forgotten it in all the insanity of that night.

"Actually, you just might be able to help me, at that." She stepped forward, putting herself between the vampires and Willow, who was cringing ever so slightly, and Xander, who was trying to pump himself up to keep his knees from shaking. "We heard a lady named Selene was in town. I've been kind of looking forward to meeting her."

One of the two girls in the group actually hissed. "No one _wants_ to see the Black Queen; not unless they have a death wish."

"Just call me suicidal, then." Buffy saw Willow sink into the ground out of her peripheral vision. On the other side, Xander pulled what looked like two large marbles from his belt. "I've wanted to talk to her about burning down a school gymnasium in LA a couple months back. A friend of mine died in that fire and I'm looking for payback."

Even as Buffy made her move, Xander threw the now glowing marbles, which exploded in the midst of the eight vampires, spraying them with holy water. It wouldn't be enough to kill them, but it had to hurt like hell.

Running forward, Buffy did a cartwheel that ended with her staking the leader of the gang, who promptly exploded into dust. Then she kicked the hissing girl square across the face with enough force to have broken a normal person's neck. The girl went down, but rolled into a crouch; still hissing.

Towards the rear of the crowd, a vampire was pulled down through the pavement, stopping when he reached his waist, then dusting when Willow let him go. The girl may have been shy and retiring, but her powers could be truly nasty. At the same time, four more vampires were taken from the fight. Two were dusted by strategically placed wooden arrows. One was lifted into the air, where he hung suspended and helpless until the fight was over. The last was hit by three poker chips that exploded on contact. Two hit him in the shoulder area; each blowing an arm off. The third blew up in his solar plexus, effectively cutting him in two. Vampires were tough, but with enough damage, even they will go down. This one dusted when the third chip hit.

That left two vamps in the fight. One took off running, only to be taken down by another of Scott's arrows. The hissing girl, however, dove for Buffy's throat. Buffy collapsed and rolled with the blow, throwing the girl off and coming to her feet facing her. When the vampire stood up, there was a stake sticking in her chest.

"You missed," she hissed.

Buffy spun and kicked the stake and the vamp exploded into dust. "Not so much."

The scene got quiet, except for a deluge of cursing from the vamp Jean was holding in the air. Buffy didn't move. Xander came up from behind. Willow rose from the ground and solidified. Scott entered the alleyway and Jean floated down with their reluctant informant.

"Not bad, team." Scott nodded appraisingly. "Gambit, Shadowcat, you're still delaying at the beginning of the fight. This time it didn't come back to bite you. Some other time, it might. Still, you were effective when you did act. I'm proud of you. Dawnstar, what were you talking about regarding Selene and LA?"

Buffy nodded at the captured vampire. "The vamps that attacked the gym in LA were wearing jackets with identical markings to these guys. They also had a habit of calling humans sheep, just like these guys. I'd forgotten about it until just now, but I'd swear I even heard one of them mention the Black Queen, just like these guys."

Scott considered for a moment. "You're right; too many coincidences."

He then turned to the vamp who was pinned invisibly to a wall, just a few inches above the ground. "I don't like coincidences. Who is Selene?"

"Go to hell!" The vampire remained defiant, but Buffy and the others saw Jean in the shadows nodding just out of her captive's view.

"Where is Selene?" Scott moved on, but the vamp thought it was a continuance of the first question.

This time, the vampire spat at Scott, who deftly avoided the projectile. Again, Jean nodded.

"What do you know about the Harvest?" Scott moved on again, keeping the vamp off balance so he didn't get wise to Jean's brain scans.

"Huh?" This time the creature seemed honestly ignorant and Jean nodded a third time.

"Why are you in Sunnydale?" To this question, the vampire responded with silence, but Jean nodded again.

"You're useless," Scott said finally. "Gambit, stake him."

After a brief, "who, me" look, Xander stepped forward, pulled a collapsed staff from the inside liner of his duster, expanded it to full size, revealing a pointed stake at one end and dusted the captive vamp.

"You get everything we need?" Scott walked over to Jean.

"Yeah." She looked drained. "I hate even doing surface scans on vampires. They're minds are cesspools. I feel like I need a long bath, but yeah, I got what we need. I'm not sure what it all means, but I got it."

Taking a deep breath and shaking her head forcefully to clear the cobwebs, Jean began relating what she'd learned. "This group does work for a master vampire who calls herself Selene. They call her the Black Queen. They're here searching for someone she calls the Chosen. That's what they were looking for in LA too. He didn't know who the Chosen was. I get the impression that Selene doesn't either."

She ran her fingers through her hair to pin back a lock that had fallen into her face. "He knows nothing about the Harvest and little about the Master, except that Selene hates him and is expecting trouble from him. They're based out of that abandoned church on Beach Avenue."

"A church?" That surprised Buffy. "There's a twist."

"It was desecrated years ago," Scott told her. "The priest went off the deep end and started doing human sacrifices; using children. A team from Xavier's took him out just before he could finish summoning whatever he was trying to bring to Earth; messy work. It's been abandoned ever since making it a tempting target for vamps and demons."

"I'm going to relay what we know back to base," Jean said as her body relaxed and her eyes lost focus.

"So, do we head over to that church now?" Buffy found herself, almost against her will, craving more action.

"No," Scott informed her. "We don't have a plan and don't know anything about the forces they have there. We'd be going in blind and that gets Slayers killed. The Professor has friends in the Mystic Underground. They help survivors, gather information and sometimes do daylight reconnaissance. Once we know more about what's going on, we'll move on them. Until then, it's our night off."

"Professor agrees with you," Jean spoke up. "He says good work. Go back to your party, but be back before curfew. We all have classes in the morning."

"Thanks for reminding me." Buffy felt disappointed and didn't like why. It seemed that the more she got involved in this world, the less she recognized herself. Was she losing the girl to the Slayer?

Five minutes later, they were back in civilian clothes and walking back into the Bronze in the middle of the band's first set. Buffy had to admit they were pretty bad. Oz played bass and backed up the rocker girl who was the lead singer on vocals. He was the only one on the stage with much talent. Still, they kept a beat, so the kids kept dancing and no one threw any tomatoes at the stage, so it couldn't be that bad.

As the night drew on, Buffy burned off her excess adrenalin with some serious dancing. She didn't even care if she was dancing by herself or with someone, as long as she could keep moving and lose herself in that movement, so she didn't have to think about all the things boiling in her brain. It even worked . . . to a degree.

ROOMMATE:

When they returned to the mansion after the last set at the Bronze, Willow took to the room they were going to share. It was a large, spacious room with more floor space than some apartments. Buffy's stuff was already there waiting to be unpacked.

"Jean and Kendra have their own rooms," Willow told her. "You were either going to wind up sharing with me or with Cordelia. I volunteered."

Buffy laughed and hugged the other girl. "Thanks, kid. I owe you big. I really mean that. I think we're going to be good friends."

"Really?" Willow was shocked.

"Why not?" Buffy considered the girl.

"It's just . . . ." Willow stammered. "Other than Xander, I don't have a lot of friends. I mean all the others . . . except Cordelia are friendly and stuff, but they got their own things going. I'm not exactly big time party girl material."

Buffy nodded. "Stick with me, girlfriend, and I'll have you breaking hearts and heads in no time."

Willow seemed quite elated with the concept, but also a little worried. Buffy let it pass and looked around the room. There were two queen size beds, two antique desks with thoroughly modern computers and executive desk chairs, a pair of overstuffed easy chairs looked comfortable enough to fall asleep in and sat before a fireplace with a flat screen TV to one side and an entertainment center to the other. The hardwood floor was covered with a couple of large area rugs.

The rest of the furniture consisted of bed stands with reading lamps next to each bed, two dressers with vanities and several bookcases; most of which were already filled with Willow's library. Buffy's own library wouldn't fill a single shelf, so she didn't mind.

"Can I help you unpack?" Willow offered hopefully when Buffy opened the first suitcase and started moving things into the drawers of the vanity next to the unoccupied bed.

"You don't have to," Buffy told her.

"I know," Willow insisted with an expression that reminded Buffy of a helpful puppy for some reason. "I want to."

"Sure." She looked around. "The stuff in that garment bag and those two suitcases all go in the closet, I guess."

Willow immediately hoisted all three bags and dragged them through the open door on one side of the room that led into a massive walk in closet. By the time Buffy had the drawers filled with the contents of her other two bags, Willow had everything else hanging in the closet. That just left a half dozen boxes and her massive steamer trunk. One box held six volumes of CDs and DVDs that went into a shelf beneath the entertainment center. Another held a few books she brought with her, which as expected barely filled one shelf of the bookcase Willow left her.

"Feel free to use the rest of it, if you need more space," Buffy told her. "I'm not a big book collector."

Three of the remaining boxes contained shoes, and the last held her make-up and toiletries. Once these were emptied, all that was left was the steamer trunk. This she moved to the foot of her bed and nodded.

"What's in that?" Willow asked once her curiosity overcame her shyness.

Buffy opened it. "Just photo albums and keepsakes; along with some old trophies and things I like to keep that remind me of my old life before I discovered I was a slayer."

She lifted the inner box, revealing a compartment beneath. "Of course, no slayer is complete without her personal arsenal."

The compartment held several stakes, some large crosses, bottles of holy water, a crossbow, some quarrels, even a sword and a double-barrel shotgun. This last had been a gift from Wesley. It fired special rounds that were effective against vampires and some demons.

The case also contained the Scythe; a strange weapon that Wesley helped her claim. He took her into the San Bernardino Mountains one weekend a few weeks before he died and they found it imbedded in a large rock of all things in the basement of an ancient convent, guarded by a bunch of old women in robes. It was about two and a half feet long and could be gripped from either end. One end had a special grip with a nastily curved and impossibly sharp axe blade. The other had a stake carved from the wood of a tree that Wesley told her was extinct before the age of Abraham.

She spent the next hour telling Willow about the various things and what they meant to her, including the story of the shotgun and most particularly the Scythe. She also showed off her photo albums; particularly the pictures that included Scott and Chris when they were kids.

She showed one special picture of the three of them at an amusement park in which Buffy had her arm in a cast and smiled mischievously. "If you ever want to get Scott's goat, just tell him you saw this picture. He'll freak. You see, he's the one who put me in that cast. I'll tell you the whole story some time, but right now, we really should be getting to bed. We need to get up early tomorrow for class."

FIRST CLASS:

The next morning came way too soon for Buffy's tastes. The bed in her new room had been surprisingly comfortable, but she'd still tossed and turned; waking up several times during the wee hours, just to fall asleep again. By the time her alarm went off, she was at least conscious, if not exactly fully rested. Willow, of course, was chipper and ready to embrace the day. Buffy wanted to fault her for being an insane morning person, but couldn't find the heart. Besides, the girl's energy was infectious and she needed all the energy she could muster at the moment.

A shower and a quick breakfast later, she walked into the Library for her first class, Slayer History. Willow, Oz, Cordelia and Xander were all there ahead of her, as was Mr. Giles, who had his nose deep in a gigantic book and looked like he hadn't slept last night.

As soon as Buffy took a seat at the large table, however, Giles closed the book and looked around the class. "Ah, Ms. Summers. Right on time. Very good."

She smiled. "First impressions and all that stuff."

He nodded. "Yes. Who can tell me approximately how many Slayers are active in the world today?"

Buffy had no idea and neither, it seems, did any of the others . . . except for Willow whose hand shot up enthusiastically almost before Giles finished the question. "There are an estimated 2,000 Slayers currently active and catalogued; that includes Watchers who once were Slayers."

"Excellent, Willow, I see you've read ahead in the text." Giles took a seat at the head of the table.

Buffy raised her hand hesitantly. "Excuse me, Mr. Giles. I was never issued a textbook."

He smiled slightly. "That's because, Buffy, all textbooks at Xavier's are digitally rendered. They are available on the computer in your room and any other computer you have access to on the campus. Personally, I prefer holding a real book, myself, and can make one available to you if you wish, but one cannot stand in the way of science . . . or so Dr. McCoy keeps telling me."

"Wow." Buffy was impressed. "Having everything computerized is so cool."

"Weren't you issued a laptop yet?" Willow seemed surprised.

"No." Buffy brushed a blonde lock from her face.

"See Dr. McCoy for one after class." Giles noted. "Now to the subject at hand . . . History of the Slayers."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Giles." Cordelia seemed to be snippy with everyone, teacher and student alike. "I just don't see why we have to learn all this stuff about what Slayers came before us. What some guy I'll never meet did in Victorian England isn't going to help me survive today."

Giles was nothing if not patient, but Buffy would learn that you could tell he was unhappy when he used your last name. "A good question, Ms. Chase. Can anyone tell me why we study past Slayers?"

Buffy raised her hand a little timidly, noting that Willow's had shot into the air again, but Giles called on her. "Wesley, my old Watcher, told me something some dead general once said. It was like his favorite old saying. 'Those who forget the past, are doomed to repeat it' or something like that."

Giles actually smiled at that. "I'm glad something I said got through that boy's thick skull. You're quite right, Buffy. The fact is that over ninety percent of all Slayers die violently. Given our profession, that's hardly surprising, even if it's rather depressing. The simple fact is that you can learn a lot from the mistakes and triumphs of those who have gone before you. For example, we sit on the largest Hellmouth seen in over a century. Such things are virtually impossible to close. In fact, in the history of the Council, only three attempts at doing so have succeeded . . . if you call what happened succeeding."

"What happened?" Xander asked.

"Tell you what," Giles mused. "That sounds like a good and proper project assignment. By next week, I would like you to be able to identify the location, date, major players and means of all three incidents. It will take you some research to get all of that together, but all the information you may need is available. In addition to the assignment, which will be due at the beginning of the class, be prepared to be quizzed on the information."

There were a few groans, but everyone quickly wrote the assignment down and Giles moved on with the class. About halfway through, however, Cordelia suddenly grabbed her head.

"Oh, blast," She screamed in obvious pain. "I hate this. I really hate this."

Giles reacted immediately. "Oz, Xander, help support her so she doesn't fall out of her seat. Willow, will you get a bottle of water for her from the refrigerator in my office."

The vision lasted less than a minute, but left Cordelia soaked in sweat and totally spent. When Willow handed her the bottle of water, she didn't even make a snide remark. She just took a deep swig from it and tried to catch her breath.

"When you're ready, Cordelia." Giles had a note pad in hand. "Tell me what you saw."

"War." She looked absolutely terrified. "There's going to be a war in the streets of Sunnydale. Vampires running amok. Two powerful armies battling. A great evil released. Hundreds die in the crossfire. It's going to start at the Bronze. Angel won't be able to stop it. It happens on the next full moon. I saw Buffy die; captured and sacrificed in some ritual. It's so confusing, it's like I'm seeing two separate events that happen at the same time."

When Cordelia fell silent, Giles stood up and adjusted his glasses. "I believe class is over for the moment. Be prepared to discuss the first three chapters of the text in next class. Buffy will you please take Cordelia down to the infirmary so Dr. McCoy can have a look at her. I need to have a conversation with the Professor."

Buffy stepped over to Cordelia and tried to help her up. "Come on. Let me help you."

Cordelia pulled away violently. "I can take care of myself. I don't need your help."

Buffy had about had it. "Okay. You got two choices. Either let me help you or I knock you out and carry you there over my shoulder."

Cordelia looked at her incredulously, but saw the determination in her expression. "You would, wouldn't you?"

Buffy just smiled and helped the now tractable girl get up and make her way to the elevator. "I'll come back for our stuff and get yours to you wherever you wind up. Then I'm going to have a long talk with some people. Someone here knows something they're not telling me."


	3. Chapter 3

REVELATIONS:

Fifteen minutes later, Buffy pounded on the door to Professor Xavier's office. "Professor, I know you and Mr. Giles are in there. You can either let me in and tell me what's going on, or I can kick the door in. I'd really hate doing that on my first real day at this school."

Giles answered. "No need to threaten, I assure you. Do come in, Buffy."

As soon as she stepped through the door, he looked at the others gathered in the hall. "Nothing to see here, people. Go about your business."

The Professor was wearing a sport coat with elbow patches and a turtleneck. His hands were steepled in front of his face. His expression was serene, but something in his eyes confirmed Buffy's suspicions.

Giles secured the office door, and directed Buffy to a seat. "So, I take it you have some questions."

"With all due respect, sir," she directed her questions at Xavier. "I want to thank you for giving me a chance to come here, but you've been keeping secrets from me and I think I deserve to know what's going on . . . particularly given the whole resulting in my death thing."

When he nodded for her to continue she did so. "When I first got here, you said something about how you'd been looking forward to me coming here for some time. Last night at the Bronze, that vamp guy, Angel said pretty much the same thing. Then I discover that this Black Queen or Selene or whoever she is, was responsible for the attack in LA and seems to have shown up here a few days before I did."

She paused for a breath, realizing she was getting too excited. "Even Mr. Giles made some weird comments when he met me yesterday. The only adult in this place who doesn't seem to be hiding something from me is Dr. McCoy. What's going on that you're afraid to tell me?"

There were a few seconds of silence when she finished; somewhat awkward seconds for her, but then Xavier nodded. "First, I must warn you that threatening violence is not the best way to get what you want around here, but I'll forgive your behavior this once. Second, your gifts of intuitive reasoning are far more developed than most Slayers of your age and experience. Third, you're correct; I have indeed been keeping certain things from you. I wasn't sure you would be able to handle them if you were told. You've convinced me in the short time I've known you, however, that you're a lot stronger than I or anyone else has ever given you credit for."

She was slightly taken aback by his candor. "Thank you . . . I think."

Xavier smiled. "Did Wesley tell you anything about the Chosen or the Chosen One?"

She shrugged. "Isn't that another way of saying Slayer?"

"Yes and no," Giles informed her. "Every year, several potential Slayers reach puberty and realize their potential. A Chosen only comes around every few centuries, if that often, and their arrival is always the herald of an era of great turmoil."

Buffy didn't like where this was heading. "Those vamps in LA. At first, they were just attacking everyone. Then I dusted a few and started fighting back. From that point on, they seemed to focus entirely on capturing - - capturing, not killing - - me. They were there looking for this Chosen. They were looking for me. Now, they're here looking for me again. I'm the Chosen. What the heck is a Chosen and who do I talk to about no longer being one?"

"The Chosen," Charles began, "is a Slayer chosen by fate, destiny, happenstance, God, the Powers That Be, no one really knows. Somehow, the universe simply knows when a Chosen will be needed and creates one. No other pattern or link between those selected has ever been discovered. Unfortunately we don't have a significant sample on which to base any kind of statistical analysis."

He paused for a moment to let her brain catch up. "The arrival of each Chosen is always preceded by a variety of portents and prophecies. These usually start on the day of the Chosen's birth and increase in number as the day of their revealing approaches. I fear that day for you is coming sooner than we will be prepared for it."

"The next full moon." It wasn't a question; it was a certainty.

Giles nodded. "This Friday; Friday the 13th as it so happens. It's also a day when certain stars and planets will be in alignment; an alignment that only happens once a millennium or more."

Xavier continued. "Giles was up all night researching the information you received from Angel and the vampire you questioned. He was about to fill me in on his findings when you . . . knocked."

"Yes, quite." Giles cleaned his glasses for the fifteenth time that morning. "We've always known about the Master. He was trapped beneath Sunnydale when the San Francisco earthquake of 1906 disrupted a ritual he was doing. He can't leave the ritual site, but as long as he's there, he can't be killed. So far, we've satisfied ourselves with eliminating his children and agents. We've always known, of course, that sooner or later we were going to have to deal with him directly. That day may well be upon us."

He put his glasses back on. "As for Selene, or the Black Queen, we know both less and more. She appears to date back to the fall of the Roman Empire and has traveled the world for all that time. It's rumored that she was a Slayer that was turned, likely by the Master, himself. She has used many names in her interminable unlife. The most famous of these was Countess Bathory."

Buffy nodded thoughtfully. "So, she has daddy issues and likes to bathe in the blood of virgins."

Giles cocked an eyebrow. "An interesting way of putting it, but essentially true. I'm surprised you know of Countess Bathory. Most people don't."

She laughed a little bitterly. "Wesley, again. He was absolutely obsessed with the legend of Dracula. Bathory is one of the three major sources of the legend, along with Vlad Tepes and some other guy, so I heard about her a lot. Cruel noble woman, bathed in the blood of young virgins to maintain her beauty, locked up in a tower when she was finally caught. I miss anything?"

"There are many variations to the legend," Giles informed her, "but you seem to have the gist of it. In addition to being a vampire and a terrakinetic, she's also a skilled witch/sorceress; particularly well versed in various blood magicks and rituals. To that end, the blood of a Chosen would be particularly potent for use in such rituals."

"Joy." Buffy was terrified, but refused to give in, so she joked. "Tell her I already gave at the office."

"Have you discovered anything on the Harvest?" Xavier sensed Buffy's fear, but was impressed with her ability to control it.

Giles shook his head. "Not much I'm afraid. There are a few vague references; most involve increasing agrarian yields, but nothing I've found seems related to our current situation. I'm nowhere near finished, however. If the answer exists, I will find it. I only hope it will be in time for it to be of use."

"I have every faith in you, Rupert," Xavier assured him. "You've never let me down yet. Do you have any further questions, Buffy?"

"Just one," she told him. "What advantage do I get from being a Chosen?"

"You already received it." His tone was flat. "Wesley took you to claim it shortly before he died."

Buffy actually laughed at his response. "The Scythe . . . . Wonderful. The powers that be shove me into the middle of some world shaking disaster and expect me to just somehow survive. They could at least throw me a bone or something . . . something more than an axe with a name I can't even pronounce."

"Buffy," Xavier met her eyes with a gaze of such conviction that she almost believed it herself. "If I know anything in this life, I know that you are one in a million. Your strength of personality; your ability to deal with adversity; your determination to get back up no matter how many times you get knocked down and to persevere no matter the odds stacked against you; these are all traits that you share with your cousins, but if anything, your spirit is even stronger than either of them. Whatever battle we may face, we will face it together and it will be won as much by strength of character as by strength of arms."

Buffy was about to respond to that when the intercom on Xavier's desk went off. "Yes," he answered.

It was Kendra. "Professor a man just rode up to the front door on a motorcycle. Literally, to the front door. His bike is sitting on the porch. He says his name is Logan and he needs to talk to you."

"Send him in, Kendra," Xavier told her as Giles took his glasses off and pinched his nose in exasperation. "After he gets that motorcycle off the porch, that is."

LOGAN:

The new arrival was a short, stout, hairy, ugly runt of a man. He was dressed in combat boots, jeans, a weathered leather jacket and a battered cowboy hat. The cigar that hung from his mouth was foul smelling; barely masking the smell of old beer and long roads that hung around him.

By the time Buffy followed the two adults out of the office, he'd left his bike in the drive and was entering the mansion. "Chuck, Ripper," he greeted the pair a bit too familiarly for Buffy's taste. "Been a while."

Xavier actually smiled slightly. "What brings you to town this time, old friend? I think I may already know."

"Ya got some bad mojo comin' down an' I figured y'r kiddies could use some back up. Ya heard 'bout th' Harvest, right?"

"Yes," Giles confirmed, "but I've yet to decipher just what it is."

Logan shrugs. "Not sure myself, but I ran into a Lei-Ach demon in Portland who told me the info I needed was in something called the Carpathian Codex. Figured if anyone knew what that was, much less had a copy of it, it'd be you guys."

Xavier raised an eyebrow at that as Giles almost bolted towards the library. "Lei-Ach demons aren't known for being helpful . . . even less for being scholarly."

Logan laughed. "Let's just say this one was highly motivated. He wanted t' die in glorious battle. I crippled him an' refused t' kill him 'till he told me what I needed. Some friends in th' Underground told me he'd done some recent contract work f'r th' Master. That's how I got turned on t' him in th' first place. I figured he might know somethin' useful 'bout th' old fart's defenses. He didn't."

"Still obsessed with killing him personally, I see." Xavier shook his head; his expression sympathetic.

Logan growled. "You better believe it. Heinrich 'n me been playin' tag f'r more 'n a century. We're too set in our ways t' change now."

"Century?" Buffy interjected.

Xavier nodded. "Yes, Buffy. Logan is a dhampyr. The Master bit his mother while she was pregnant with him. He was born with many of the powers of a vampire and few of its weaknesses. He's also a Slayer . . . and a few other things."

The strange man looked Buffy up and down. "New kid?"

"She arrived yesterday," Xavier told him. "She's Scott's and Chris' cousin. She moved here from Los Angeles. We've gained a few new students since your last visit."

Buffy was at a loss after everything she'd just been told, so she said the first thing that come to mind. "Just when I thought things couldn't get any stranger. First there's a vampire with a soul. Now I meet a half-vamp Slayer. I need some air."

As she headed out the door, Xavier sent a message to Scott. _If you're free, Scott, I believe your cousin could use someone to talk to. She just walked out the main entrance. Could you catch up to her?_

 _I'm on my way,_ came the response. _I just finished Advanced Math with Dr. McCoy._

"She th' one?" Logan watched Buffy start walking up the driveway in a bit of a daze.

Xavier nodded. "Yes. She just found out. She's strong; stronger than you can even imagine. With time and training, she'll adjust and probably amaze us all. Buffy confronted several of Selene's henchmen a few months ago. Lionheart was her Watcher. He died in the conflict. Buffy and a group of the other students encountered several other members of Selene's brood outside of the Bronze last night."

Logan put his cigar out in his palm. "She here for the Harvest?"

Xavier shook his head negatively. "The vampire that Jean interrogated had no idea what the Harvest even was. We think she's here looking for the Chosen."

"Don't wanna even think what she'd do with th' blood of a Chosen." Logan blew the remains of ash off the palm that had already healed. "Between this Harvest nonsense, Selene an' th' Chosen, looks like y'r gonna need me t' hang around f'r awhile."

"My offer still stands." Xavier's tone was almost hopeful. "We could use your help; now even more than before."

"Tell ya what." Logan nodded to his friend. "I'll give it a semester. Ain't makin' any promises beyond that. I've been workin' with some kids I rescued from th' Initiative on the road f'r th' last few months. Time they had some stability. I was gonna bring 'em here sooner 'r later anyway. They need more help 'n I can give 'em."

Xavier shook Logan's offered hand. "I've read your files on those kids. I've been hoping you'd bring them here eventually. You have a deal. Welcome to Xavier's Academy, Mr. Logan."

WALK WITH SCOTT:

Scott caught up with Buffy as she was crossing the front lawn. She really wasn't consciously heading anywhere. She just needed time to think. So much had been dumped on her in the last twenty four hours that she felt like she was drowning. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run away. More than anything else, she REALLY wanted to hit something . . . anything.

"Penny for your thoughts." Scott was still several feet away when he called out his greeting. "Professor said you were a little bummed. He thought you might like someone to talk to. Look, two ears; no waiting."

She so did not want to laugh, but she couldn't help it. "You're so corny. You know that, don't you?"

He shrugged. "So you want to talk about it?"

"Let's see." She knew that once she started, she wouldn't be able to stop. "My parents got divorced. Neither of them has any room in their new lives for me, so they dumped me here. I got my Watcher killed and burned down the school gym. I have an ancient vampire who wants my blood for some icky ritual. Another one is planning some end of the world thingy and I just walked into the middle of it. Everything I ever thought about the world has been turned upside down. I met a vampire with a soul and a guy who's half vampire and half Slayer. On top of it all, I just got told I'm not just _a_ chosen, I'm _the_ Chosen. I'm some kind of once in a millennium Slayer who only shows up when all hell is about to cut loose. Of course, I don't get anything special to help me do any of this except an axe and a lot of hot air. Beyond that, I just have to play it by ear. If I fail, no big. The world just ends. No pressure there. After everything that happened, I just wanted to put all the Slayer junk behind me, but here I am being pulled into ground zero."

"Wow." Scott's sarcasm was annoying sometimes. "You're really screwed. Too bad you don't have a couple of really handsome and cool cousins, and a bunch of new friends who all have your back."

The combination of her tirade and his sarcasm seemed to do the trick this time. "That sounded mega-whiny, didn't it?"

"It's okay." He put an arm around her shoulder. "I'll never tell. You got a few things wrong, though. First, your parents both love you. You have no idea how much the Professor had to go through to get them to let you come here. I thought he might have to give them a little psychic encouragement. I'm still not sure he didn't. Both of them wanted custody of you. It was the only thing they fought over in the divorce. Joint custody and sending you here was the only way they could settle it."

He began to steer her subtly around the tree line and eventually back towards the mansion. "Second, you didn't get your Watcher killed. Wesley knew the risks. And you didn't burn down the gym; a vampire with a flame thrower did that. You stopped him from causing a lot more damage and saved a lot of lives; lives Wesley willingly sacrificed his life to save. Blaming yourself dishonors his memory."

She knew he was right, but she wasn't quite finished pouting and feeling sorry for herself yet.

He wasn't finished, of course. "As much as I hate to admit it, between them, Angel and Logan have more practical experience dealing with vampires and demons than Mr. Giles has books. Blade, that's Logan's call sign, has been slaying for over a century. Worthington's been a vampire for five centuries and has had a soul for the last two. Between them, there's not a lot they haven't seen."

Finally, he came to his last point. "As for being _the_ Chosen, that's tomorrow's worry. Deal with today. That's going to be tough enough. I read about some of the previous special Chosen. They weren't the most powerful. They weren't the smartest or the best trained. As far as I can tell, the only thing special about any of them was their stubbornness. They refused to quit even when the odds were so stacked against them that anyone with an ounce of common sense would have run away. You have that trait in spades."

Finally, Buffy sighed. "You know how I hate it when you're right."

"Sucks to be you, then." He smiled. "By the way, as for the whole wanting to put the Slayer life behind you bit, we both know that's a load of fertilizer. For better or worse, you were born for this; we both were. We have the ability to make a difference in the world and we couldn't turn our backs on this if we tried.

She looked up at him meaningfully; almost pleadingly. "What's that make us, then, Scotty; people like you and me; like Chris and the others? Where does the Slayer take over so much that there's nothing else left of the person? What happens then?"

He shook his head. "You're looking at it wrong. The Slayer and the person aren't separate. I know it feels that way sometimes. It does for all of us. It's not true, though and you need to get that through your head. Whether you're a cheerleader, a high school student, the daughter of two parents who love you dearly even though they're no longer in love with each other, the cousin of two of the cooler guys around, a tomboy with skinned up knees, a royal pain in my neck, a Slayer or whatever, you're Buffy; you're you; it's just part of being you."

He changed the subject so fast, she almost got intellectual whiplash. "What would you say to a little aggression therapy?"

"Say what?"

He led her back into the mansion. "It's time you got a look at the Danger Room. You're going to love it."

WELCOME TO THE X-MEN:

Scott took Buffy back down to the subterranean complex beneath the mansion. At the end of one hall, there was a pair of massive vault-like doors. From the interactive campus map she played with yesterday, Buffy knew they led to the Danger Room; "a fully immersive training simulator that employed force field and holographic technology in addition to advanced robotics and weapons systems." The Professor sure liked using big words and techno-babble.

Scott, however, led her down a side hall where a column like device sat in the center at the end. "This is a fabricator. An extra-dimensional race called the Shi'Ar gave it to us; along with most of the technology around here. The Professor's pretty private, but rumor has it he used to be romantically involved with the lady who is now their Empress; or Majestrix as they call her. I met her once. She's a beautiful lady . . . if you like birds."

Buffy grimaced. "Eeww. I so don't want to think about that. Thank you ever so much for the imagery."

He laughed. "You're welcome; just part of the service. Anyway, this beauty can create just about any clothing you can imagine. We're only to use them to create field gear and other mission related garments, however. The Professor's a stickler on that; which hit Cordelia particularly hard when she discovered she could use it to make customized Dolce & Gabbana. We're here to make you your own field uniform."

Buffy looked over the device, but kept her distance. "Cool. I was thinking of adding a leather jacket and driving gloves to the design. I'm not big on masks, but I could definitely go for a pair of stylish sunglasses like Jean was wearing."

Scott smiled and nodded, but also corrected her. "Not Jean; Phoenix. Get used to separating the two. In the field and in training, she's Phoenix and I'm Hawkeye and you're Dawnstar. As field leader, I'm extremely strict about that, and I'm not going to cut you any slack because you're my favorite relative. In fact, I'm probably tougher on Chris than I am on any other member of the team except myself. I'm going to be just as hard on you, so get used to it. It's my job to make sure you stay alive out there. I haven't lost anyone yet and I'm not going to let either of you be the first."

As Buffy weighed that, Scott worked the fabricator; eventually coming up with a holographic image of a costume.

"Nice." Buffy whistled. "You should become a clothing designer."

"The machine does most of the work." He shrugged. "It's voice activated and pretty intuitive. I programmed in a basic costume with a black leather jacket added. The jacket has a white cross emblem on the back, to match the one on the chest. Not bad for a blind man."

She nodded. "The white driving gloves with the little black crosses on the knuckles are a nice touch. I'm sold. What now?"

He continued to feel his way around the machine. "Not even Mr. Giles knows why crosses and stars of David repel vamps and quite a few of the nastier demons out there, but they do, so we'd be fools not to use them. Actual faith in God helps, but isn't required. Other symbols don't have the same effect, though."

Scott quickly pressed a few more buttons he seemed to instinctively know the locations of, then the machine hummed some more and produced a wristwatch like the ones the rest of the team wore. "Here you go, Dawnstar. Welcome to the X-Men."

"X-Men?" Buffy cocked her head.

"That's what the Professor calls the team." Scott activated his own watch and started back towards the Danger Room. "Officially, we're Slayer Task Force X, but the Prof. feels that's too long."

Buffy frowned. "Sexist, much? Aren't there more female Slayers than male?"

Scott laughed. "Don't look at me. Take it up with him. Do me a favor, though. If you decide to try it, let me know so I can get some popcorn and a good seat. It should be an interesting conversation."

THERAPY:

When they entered the room, Buffy was slightly let down. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but a large empty room with an observation deck above the entrance wasn't it. Scott couldn't see her reaction, but he didn't have to. He'd felt it himself and so had every other Slayer who entered the Danger Room for the first time. It never lasted very long.

About two seconds. "Maze. Urban. Night."

Buffy exclaimed quietly as the room suddenly changed into a fully immersive environment. "Wow."

"Never fails." Scott smiled. "Our job is simple. Somewhere ahead, beyond this maze of dead end streets, you'll find the entrance of the Bronze. First one to cross the room and reach it wins. The maze is totally randomized, so I have no advantage for having run it before and there are dozens of paths to the exit, so getting lost isn't a risk. Of course, the room is going to do everything it can to stop us, so there is no clear path. There's no rooftop access, but other than that, all's fair."

Buffy looked around her. It was incredible. If she didn't know she was in the Danger Room, she'd swear she was somewhere in the middle of a large city. There was even a breeze and an all too familiar urban stench. She even thought she caught a promise of rain in the air. It was certainly impressive.

Buffy always had good instincts when it came to navigation. She almost never got lost. She wasn't sure if it was a Slayer ability, but it was handy. She took off at a dead run as Scott took to the fire escapes; leaping and swinging on lines launched from a wrist mounted device. She made a mental note to get herself one of those.

At one point, she turned a corner just as walls began to slide into place, blocking her path. She took a running dive through at the last instant, into a rolling landing, back to her feet and continued moving.

Elsewhere, Scott was putting on an impossible show of archery as several bat winged squid-like creatures attacked him. He took out six of them from six different angles as he leaped between fire escapes and threw a flip into the maneuver for good measure. When he was forced to the ground later and encountered a pack of vampires, he showed he wasn't just a ranged combatant. He shot two before they closed on him, then wielding two arrows as stakes proceeded to dust four more in less than ten seconds.

Further ahead, a trap door opened right in front of Buffy, but she managed to leap at the last second, grab a fire escape and swing past. Finally, she saw the exit ahead. The only thing between her and it was a two story tall demon right out of the Lord of the Rings standing in the middle of the Bronze's parking lot. Strangely, she hadn't faced a single actual opponent until that moment.

As the creature reached down to grab and crush her, Buffy cut loose with a powerful flash of light that lit the entire room and blinded the room's sensors (thereby blinding the demon). With a rolling tumble between the creature's legs, she reached the door and exited.

As good as Scott was and as much experience as he had with this scenario, Buffy still beat him by nearly fifteen seconds. "Okay. I'm impressed. You broke the record for that test - - my record, by the way - - by over ten seconds . . . on your first try."

"Really," she panted, sitting against the wall of the hallway. "Cool."

LUCKY:

Scott activated the intercom next to the door. "Professor, you need to come down to the Danger Room. I've got something you're going to want to see."

Five minutes later, Xavier and Logan joined Scott and Buffy in the monitor deck overlooking the Danger Room. Two screens showed Scott's and Buffy's respective exercises with timers for each. Xavier was also quite impressed. Even Logan nodded thoughtfully.

"Do you realize, Buffy," the Professor asked as the replays finished, "that you instinctively chose the shortest route through the maze? At every juncture you chose the right path. The scenario is designed to present over a hundred options no matter what path you choose. You crossed forty six intersections with a total of one hundred and twenty one options and made the correct choice every time; even on one occasion when the best route took you back towards the entrance. That decision shaved four full seconds off of your time. You further avoided every opponent until the very end. There were a lot of opponents."

"That's good, right?" Buffy was a little confused.

Xavier smiled. "It should have been impossible. You should have had to face at least four different groups of opponents; possibly as many as ten. That's one of the many obstacles actually built into the program. You avoided every one of them, forcing the computer to compensate by putting a large obstacle blocking the exit."

He called up the image of the time she went backwards and shaved four seconds off her time. "Do you remember what you were thinking at that intersection?"

She shrugged. "Nothing, really. I wasn't exactly thinking anything. I was just running on instinct. It's always seemed to work for me before. At least it usually does. Now that you mention it, although I always seem to get where I'm going when I just trust my instincts, I seem to run into trouble a lot more often along the way. I never thought much about it before."

Xavier quickly reviewed other readings. "I'll have Dr. McCoy take a look at these brain scans, but there seems to be a spike in certain brain activity at several critical junctures during the test. Such spikes are usually found when a Slayer accesses their powers."

"I got an idea," Logan suggested, taking a coin from his pocket. "Flip this twenty times, calling it in the air each time."

She did and got an average result; guessing correctly eleven times.

Logan nodded. "Now I want ya to do it again, only this time, every time ya guess right, I'll give ya a dollar. Every time ya get it wrong, though, ya owe me a dollar."

Twenty flips later, Logan reached into his pocket and handed Buffy a twenty dollar bill. Xavier rubbed his chin in deep thought. Scott remained staunch, stoic and serious, but was laughing on the inside. Buffy was thinking about buying a new CD she was interested in.

"Could she be using some kind of TK without knowing," Scott asked.

"Some kind of psychic effect is taking place," Xavier conjectured. "Of that, I'm certain. The spike is close to what we see with the use of psychokinesis or telepathy. In all my experience, I've never seen anything quite like it."

He paused, but continued; talking more to himself than to anyone else in the room. "Ever since my father learned how to scan the brain activity of Slayers accessing their mutant gifts, over fifty years ago, we've kept exhaustive records of the corresponding spikes. Although each subject is unique, similar powers show similar spike patterns. I thought I'd recorded every power possible, but this is a new one."

Suddenly, he turned to Buffy. "Buffy, have you recovered sufficiently for some further tests?"

She rolled her eyes a bit, but figured what the heck. "I'm a little tired, but as long as I don't need to do another flash in the next few hours, I'm game."

A few moments later, she re-entered the Danger Room to find herself faced with three doors as Xavier gave her instructions. "Two of these doors lead to threats that with the room's safeties on won't be able to actually harm you, but are well beyond your ability to deal with. Only one door leads to another room with another choice of doors. The number of doors in each case, will vary, but only one door will lead you safely forward in each instance. Proceed."

Buffy was a little nervous as she considered the first three doors, but after her first success at making the right choice, she felt progressively more confident. Twelve times she encountered a choice of between three and twelve doors. Each time she chose correctly . . . but then she made the fatal mistake of getting cocky. In the twelfth room, she was presented with a choice of five doors. The second she was committed, she knew she'd made a mistake. She opened the door without taking time to listen to the instincts that got her this far. The last thing she saw was a massive fist flying towards her, then nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

LESSONS LEARNED:

Buffy's head hurt. Her shoulder hurt more. Her arm hurt. In fact, the whole left side of her torso hurt. She slowly opened her eyes to see the furry feline countenance of Dr. McCoy looking down at her. He had a light pen and was trying to test her optic response.

"I should have opened the next door on the left." She groaned, rubbing her head.

"Correct," Professor Xavier said from several feet away where he waited with Scott standing beside him. "All the powers in the world won't do you much good if you get overconfident and ignore them, Buffy."

"Ouch." She reached up to shield her eyes from the overhead lighting. "Lesson learned. Last thing I remember was this huge metal fist. What hit me?"

"A huge metal fist," Scott deadpanned.

He was rewarded with one of Buffy's "if looks could kill, you'd be so dead" glares. She lacked the strength and conviction to maintain it for very long, though. "Guess I deserved that. So what's the verdict, Doc?"

Dr. McCoy was perched on a tall stool, his toes clutching the edge for balance. "Were I to venture a guess, I'd say you have the ability to bend probability. The power seems to be part sensory, part telekinetic, part telepathic, even part precognitive. It also seems to be completely subconscious and instinctive. We've always encouraged students here to trust their instincts. That would seem to be doubly appropriate in your case."

She frowned. "If this power is supposed to make me lucky, why do I always seem to be stumbling into trouble?"

Hank laughed. "I never said you were lucky, my dear. I said you twist probability. It could be that it works both ways; depending on your goals. In the Danger Room, you were focused on reaching the exit. You found it in record time. An unpleasant fact about being Slayers is that even under normal conditions, we're always on alert for trouble. We have to be. You happen to be uncannily good at finding it."

"Oh . . . joy . . . . Lucky me. Any other good news?"

Xavier smiled. "Simply because it's subconscious now, doesn't mean you can't learn to control it with training. I can't promise you that you'll be able to do so. Sometimes instinctive powers prove resistant to conscious control. We have had some success with other students, however. Even if you're never able to fully control the power, you should be able to achieve some measure of control. At the very least we can teach you to identify and translate the messages your subconscious is sending you."

"And until I do, I'm a walking trouble magnet?" She sat up a little shakily and swung her legs over the edge of the examination table.

"It's not all bad, kiddo." Scott tried to lift her spirits a little. "Now that we know what you do, I can already think of a dozen or more ways we can put it to use in the field."

Xavier's tone was supportive as he approached a little closer. "I'm already teaching Cordelia how to control her gifts better. Having someone else to work with should be good for her. Her isolation concerns me."

Scott shook his head behind the Professor's back, but should have known better. "You disagree, Mr. Summers?"

"Actually, sir." He cleared his throat nervously. "I'm afraid I do. Cordelia's isolation is entirely self-imposed. She's gone out of her way to alienate every member of the team. The girl isn't happy here and she seems determined to make everyone around her as unhappy as she can. I'm also concerned that the debilitating nature of her . . . visions could make her a serious liability in the field."

"Valid points." Only Buffy saw Xavier's smile. "I've been troubled by the same issue. I'm not willing to give up quite yet, however. I believe the worst drawbacks of her powers are caused by her resistance to using them."

He paused, then turned to face Scott. "I want you to join Buffy, Cordelia and I in their training sessions. Your own sensory abilities are close enough to their respective subconscious powers that you might be able to assist in their training."

"I'll be happy to help, sir." Scott's response was surprisingly genuine.

Giles voice came over the infirmary intercom. "Professor Xavier, Dr. McCoy, would you join Mr. Logan and myself in the library? I believe we've found the information we're looking for."

"Can I come too," Buffy asked. "I'd like to know what I'm getting into."

He nodded. "I believe you should join us as well, Scott. I would appreciate your feedback."

THE MASTER'S PLAN:

When they entered the library, they found Logan and Giles pouring over a thick, dusty folio. Willow sat nearby, working diligently on one of the library computers. Giles was more concerned than Scott had seen him in all the years he'd been at the school. Logan, on the other hand, although no less concerned, had shades of expectation and anticipation in his aura.

"What have you learned," Xavier asked.

"We know what the Master is attempting to accomplish." Giles directed their attention to a passage written in a language Buffy didn't recognize, but with woodcut pictures that definitely seemed imposing. "The signs are perfect for an ancient ritual called the Harvest of Blood and Power; incredibly obscure. The performer of the ritual chooses one subject, called the Vessel to go forth and drink the blood of his enemies. For every enemy so drained, the caster, not the Vessel, gains power. It would require a frighteningly high number of victims and they all must be slain in the course of one night, but if completed, the ritual could give the Master sufficient power not just to free himself, but to complete the apotheosis he was attempting when he originally became trapped."

He paused, then turned half way to Buffy, but still addressed Xavier. "As for Selene's part in this, the conjunction of stars on that night would also add potency to any ritual or blood rite performed. I doubt it's integral to her plans, but it most definitely would be advantageous."

He removed his glasses and cleaned them again. "The conjunction combined with the proximity to the Hellmouth, the full moon, even the date, furthermore, are likely among the reasons for the influx of demons and other creatures the Council and our friends in the Underground have been concerned about. I believe the proper term would be 'a perfect storm'."

Buffy nodded. "At least we know where it's all going to start . . . at the Bronze."

"Part of it," Scott corrected. "She said it felt like she was seeing more than one event. The Bronze is holding its annual 'End of the Summer Party' Friday night. Nearly every teenager in town is going to be there. If this Harvest needs a lot of blood, that's going to be the place to be . . . assuming they can get through Angel's wards."

Logan disagreed. "It'd also be damn attractive t' Selene. That witch n' I crossed paths more'n a few times. Fits her style; drawin' a hero out by attackin' th' folks they protect. Puts 'em at a disadvantage. They haveta focus on protectin' innocent lives insteada focusin' on th' enemy; makes 'em vulnerable. She even tried it on me . . . once."

Scott wasn't sure he wanted to know. "What happened?"

Logan sneered. "She found out th' hard way that I'm no hero an' my friends ain't helpless. She escaped with her skin an' her tail between her legs. Took her nearly three years t' heal an' rebuild her forces. That's why th' vamps in that attack back in LA were all newbies. She lost her best forces tryin' t' kill me. She's havin' t' improvise an' that ain't her strong suit."

"It doesn't make her any less dangerous, however," the Professor noted.

"Not even a little bit," Logan agreed. "If she can't outclass us, she'll try t' outnumber us. That vamp Red scanned figured the Queen has as many as several hundred vamps at her disposal an' they're all convergin' on Sunnydale."

Buffy nodded. "So we stakeout the Bronze and deal with whatever happens there. If we don't stop this Harvest thingy, whatever Selene's up to won't matter much."

Logan agreed. "When th' quake trapped him, Heinrich was tryin' t' transform himself inta some kinda super demon; somethin' that could control every bloodsucker in the world; vampires an' demon's alike. Compared t' that, Selene's small change."

"El Rey del Sangre Negro," Giles clarified; "King of the Black Blood. It's a truly terrifying creature. To the best of my memory the ritual has only been completed once; during the Inquisition; by a fallen Templar. It took the sacrifice of an entire order of monks and several Slayers to stop it. It was one of the events that helped lead to the destruction of the Templars."

Buffy raised her hand, still a little self-conscious. "I thought the Templars were destroyed because the King of France and the Vatican wanted their property and wealth."

"Very good, Buffy." Giles smiled. "That was their real motivation, but the Knights Templar gave them more than enough fuel to disguise their greed. The hands of some of the leaders of the order were far from clean."

"I agree with Buffy," Scott said after some thought. "The Bronze is our best shot at stopping the whole thing. Not only do we know that several things are going to start there, you have to admit that if this Selene is looking for a place to draw Buffy out, she couldn't find anywhere better."

Xavier steepled his fingers again. "Scott, I want you to take Jean and Buffy into town this evening and fill Angel in on what we've discovered. We'll need to coordinate out efforts with him."

"I'll go with 'em," Logan growled. "Been a while since I sat down an' traded notes with Worthington. He owes me a vintage bottle o' scotch."

JEAN'S STORY:

After dinner, Buffy climbed into the backseat of Jean's navy blue Mustang convertible. "I didn't know slaying paid so well."

Jean laughed as Scott climbed into the shotgun seat. "It was a birthday present from my parents when I turned sixteen last month. The Professor and the Watcher's Council do see to it that we all have enough income that we don't have to get jobs at McDonalds, but it won't buy a car like this without years of serious scrimping."

Buffy smiled as Jean put the top down and pulled out into the setting sun. "Your plate says 'LDYGREY', but your name is Jean."

Jean's response held a mix of emotions. "My parents have a strange sense of propriety."

Buffy was confused until Scott explained. "Jean's family is descended from British Nobility. She's technically Lady Jean Grey. She's not nearly as impressed with it as the rest of her family. I think her parents probably meant it as an inside joke, but . . . ."

Buffy decided to change the subject. "Scotty told me I'd have to ask you how you got the codename 'Phoenix'."

Jean shrugged as Logan followed them down the winding road on his motorcycle. "I was originally called Marvel Girl. I hated it, so I changed it last year when I came back from the dead."

"Dead?" Buffy gulped. "You can't leave a girl hanging like that. Out with it. Tell the story."

Jean shook her head in resignation and opened a mind link between the three of them. _It was before most of the others joined up. It was just Scott, Chris, Kendra and me, along with some older students who graduated in June._

 _You'll probably meet them eventually,_ Scott interjected. _Dani Moonstar is an illusionist who calls herself Mirage. Sam Guthrie is a human rocket called Cannonball. Bobby DaCosta is Sunspot, a solar powered tank and energy blaster. Xian Coy Manh, or Karma, possesses people. Rahne Sinclair is a shapeshifter and calls herself Wolfsbane. They've teamed up with some other Slayers who didn't attend here and are taking their show on the road._

 _We were dealing with the Initiative._ Jean said. _They're a bunch of paramilitary types the feds created to deal with what they call XDTs, or extra dimensional threats, and HSTs, humanoid supernatural threats. You might say we don't like their methods. They consider us talented, but dangerous amateurs._

Jean paused and Scott took over. _Some of the people who rose to the top of the organization considered us as big a threat as any XDT or HST._

He continued as they reached the bottom of the road and entered town proper. _Last year, they sent some operatives to capture us. They set us up masterfully and had us dead to rights. The commander at the time wanted to turn us into weapons. We'd have been screwed if Logan hadn't shown up._

Jean took over again. _Blade had dealt with the Initiative before; particularly with Col. John Wraith, the man in charge. They're the reason his skeleton is laced with an experimental metal called adamantium. Wraith is a real sadist. He puts anything that doesn't fit with his definition of human into one of two groups: expendable weapons and targets to be taken out._

Buffy could feel Jean's rage rising, but the redhead kept it under control. _Anyway, when Logan showed up, a fight broke out. As he was heading for his escape hatch, Wraith shot me in the head. He figured the others would be too distracted trying to save me; giving him the few minutes he needed to get away._

Her mental voice suddenly became very calm; almost detached, even clinical. _I was dying. In fact, I actually died for a few minutes. Logan opened his wrist and poured his own blood down my throat. He brought me back to life, but the experience changed me. Before getting shot, I was a moderate strength telekinetic. Since coming back, my teke powers have increased exponentially and I've discovered I have telepathic powers as well. Marvel Girl died that day and Phoenix rose from her ashes._

Buffy was lost for words. "Wow."

Jean laughed. _I owe Logan everything and I'll always have a special bond to him. He's as much a father to me as Professor Xavier or my real father, John Grey. Marvel Girl was shy, retiring, studious and afraid of living. She never had the guts to cut through Scott's hard shell and find out what was inside. Phoenix is fearless. I've already faced the worst death has to offer and come out unscathed. When I finally woke up, Scott was by my side. He hadn't left me since the fight. The first thing I did was the one thing I once was most afraid of._

Scott actually blushed at the memory. _Jean originally arrived at Xavier's about the same time Chris and I did, so we've known each other for six years. I think I fell in love with her the first day we met, but we kept dancing around each other until that night. It took losing her to make me realize I couldn't live without her. I haven't even told Chris yet, but we're getting married as soon as we're both eighteen. That first kiss, a year ago, changed both of us forever._

Buffy shook her head. "If you wrote that in some romance novel, no one would believe it. That's what makes it so special. I'm so happy for you. Guess I've always been a sucker for happy endings."

The rest of that statement was left unsaid, but that didn't mean it didn't haunt all three of them. They all knew how rare happy endings were for Slayers.

RETURN TO THE BRONZE:

The sun was descending fast on the western horizon when they pulled into the parking lot of the Bronze. The place wouldn't open for another hour, but they weren't there to dance. Scott ignored the main entrance and led them around to the side of the building where the entrance to the private elevator leading down to Worthington's apartment was.

Scott looked straight into the security camera. "We need to talk."

"I just got up," Angel's voice came over the intercom as the door opened automatically for them. "Come on down."

Stepping off the elevator a moment later and two levels below ground, the four were greeted by Angel. He was wearing a silk robe with oriental designs and had a snifter of something thick and red in his hand. He guided them into a Victorian sitting room. A very old bottle of scotch sat on a table in the center of the room.

Logan walked over and picked up the bottle. "Y'r a man o' y'r word, Worthington. How'd ya know I'd be comin'?"

Angel sat down in an almost throne-like easy chair. "I heard you were in town. I knew it wouldn't be long before you dropped by. I took that out of my special stock this morning. I still can't believe you drew to an inside straight."

Logan took a seat across from him. "Sometimes ya gotta take a risk. That's why they call it gamblin'. We ain't here t' talk old times, though. Ya got trouble comin'."

Angel nodded, but said nothing.

Scott started. "It's coming down Friday night. It's some kind of once in a millennium planetary alignment. The Harvest is a ritual that must be performed during it. The Master intends to use it to not only free himself, but complete his . . . apotheosis."

Jean took over. "Selene is also in town, looking for Buffy. She intends to use the alignment for some blood ritual. As you already know, the blood of a Slayer is particularly potent; given that Buffy's THE Chosen One, hers is probably even more potent."

"The Master and Selene aren't allies." Scott added. "In fact, they hate each other, but there's going to be a war on the streets and it's going to start in your club."

Angel absorbed the information calmly. "That should be impossible, but let's assume it isn't. Friday is one of the biggest parties of the year here. Most of the teens in Sunnydale will be in the Bronze. How can we stop it?"

Logan thought. "Are there any holes in y'r wards? No matter how obscure they are, if we know them in advance, we can do something about them."

Angel frowned. "The Bronze is two clubs. Above, there's the teen club. Below, just above us, is a very different club. Demons and vampires can't enter the above ground club; only the one below ground and they have to use special entrances through the sewers to get there. My wards rely on retaining that balance. As long as the lower Bronze is in business, the upper Bronze is supposed to be safe."

He paused. "The Master is my grand-sire. Theoretically, he might be able to use his ties to me to get through, but he's trapped in his cavern."

Buffy spoke up. "He's your grand-sire. What about your sire?"

Angel shook his head. "Darla's dead. Logan dropped an Afghan cliff face on her. I've been meaning to thank you for that, by the way. Even if she was still alive, she would need a lot more mojo than she has to get through. Heinrich may have that kind of power, but Darla definitely doesn't."

Buffy turned to Logan. "Did you recover her body?"

Logan shrugged. "No reason to. There wouldn't have been anything left but dust. She was old, but she wasn't a nosferatu."

Scott shook his head. "If there's no body, we can't be sure. We need to check with the Magical Underground and the Watchers' Council to make sure there haven't been any sightings of her reported since Afghanistan. How long ago was that?"

"Late 2003," Logan told him. "I was working with a Greek mercenary named Dominick Petrakis. He was a renegade Slayer; called himself Avalanche. He hit the cliff with a blast that pretty much liquefied it. I doubt I coulda survived that and Darla wasn't anywhere near as tough as I am."

He paused. "Still, checkin' on her is a good idea. Even if it doesn't have anything t' do with what's goin' on. What about Drusilla? She's loony as a crate o' monkeys, but she's no slouch in the sorcery department."

Angel didn't think much of that. "Drusilla doesn't have the power needed to overcome the wards. Last I heard, she and Spike were operating out of Denmark; making the rounds of the local fringe clubs."

Logan scoffed. "Sounds like Billy-boy's kind of scene."

Buffy was confused. "Spike, Drusilla, Billy-boy? I need a scorecard to tell the vamps apart."

Angel seemed a little ashamed. "I created Drusilla; one of Angelus' 'better' pieces of work. She created Spike. His name when he was alive was William, but he changed it after he turned, then turned and eventually staked his own mother. With Darla and Drusilla, Spike and I were quite a team back in the day; a terrifying and destructive team. He's a punk and a large part of a past I'm working hard to make up for and would rather forget."

Scott already knew that history. "If one of them could get through, how much damage could they do?"

Angel didn't look happy. "A lot. The Bronze is my home. As such, it has a threshold that vampires and a lot of demons can't cross without an invitation; not as much of one as it would if I wasn't a vampire, but still. If someone from my demonic 'blood' line was able to get in, they could theoretically invite others. Looks like I'm going to have to upgrade my wards. Unfortunately, there's not enough time to do it before Friday. Four days isn't a lot of time for the kinds of rituals needed to block this kind of mojo."

Logan frowned. "Ya could close th' club f'r th' night."

Scott shook his head. "It wouldn't change the outcome, only the details. All the pieces are in position and in play. Not even strengthening the wards on the Bronze would change the outcome at this point. If the club is closed, the Harvest will just have to start somewhere else. At least, this way, we know the ignition point. We can be on hand to deal with it."

"Tell me more about the Harvest," Angel asked.

Jean responded. "The caster chooses another vampire to be their proxy. They call him the Vessel. Every life he takes during the night of the ritual gives power to the caster instead of the Vessel. With enough power, the Master breaks free and completes his transformation."

"How do we identify this Vessel?" Angel finished his glass and set it aside.

"Not clear," Jean admitted, "but it shouldn't be too hard. He'll be the one the other vamps are funneling victims to."

Scott took over. "Mr. Giles says the ritual gives the Vessel certain protections and advantages for the duration, but if we can take him out, the Harvest ends and half our job is done."

Angel nodded. "I'll hire some Underground people as additional security. They won't be much help in a fight, but can handle crowd control once everything starts. Regardless how the Master's brood gets through my wards, once inside, their first move will be to secure the entrances. They'll want a captive audience."

Scott agreed. "That works for us as well, at least to a certain degree. The last thing we want is a lot of panicked teenagers flooding the streets with everything that's going to be out there."

He frowned. "The problem will be taking on the vamps with that many witnesses around. The X-Men, like all slayers, prefer to work behind the scenes. This could put a spotlight on us and let a lot of creatures know where to find us; not to mention the Catholic Church's Inquisition and the FBI's Paranormal Investigations Directive. The Initiative already knows we're here, but those two organizations could make our lives very interesting, indeed."

"I think I ran into Fibbies in LA." Buffy told them. "They showed up after the fire and were asking a lot of questions. For some reason, they never talked to me."

Scott smiled. "That was actually the Professor looking out for you. He heard about the fire and the loss of Lionheart and knew someone would come looking, so he discouraged them from looking at you. He's done it for each of us at one point or another, but he never says much about it."

Buffy was surprised by that, but in light of everything else she'd been through in the past few days, it was a rather minor issue. She knew she could be angry with Xavier for interfering, but decided to thank him for the quiet assistance later.

NEW ARRIVALS:

Later that night and back at the mansion, the four new students arrived Logan had been training on the road arrived. "I found 'em in an Initiative base. They were bein' held there an' forcibly trained t' use their powers against vampires, demons an' other slayers. Their trainers were particularly hard on 'em, so they got their share o' psychological scars; particularly Faith. What they did to her . . . ."

His anger was rising so fast, he decided to head outside and clear his head before he lost it. He hid it well, but he'd always had a soft spot for kids like the students at Xavier's. Nothing could piss him off faster than hurting a kid, teen or woman that couldn't defend themselves.

Buffy followed him out. "You okay?"

He smiled gruffly. "Yeah, kid. I'm fine. Th' thought o' what folks like th' Initiative do t' kids like you, makes me wanna hit somethin' . . . hard . . . an' repeatedly."

She nodded, but made no move to leave and after a few minutes, he started talking. "Faith was an orphan. She had th' ability t' absorb th' abilities o' others; demons an' slayers alike. Problem is, she couldn't control it. Any skin t' skin contact triggers it."

He lit a cigar. "Those idiots stripped her an' two other girls they had naked an' shoved 'em in a small box where they couldn't avoid touchin'. Left 'em there all night. When they opened th' box up in th' mornin', Faith's body was a shriveled husk, one girl's body had disappeared completely an' Faith's mind was in th' third girl's body. Now, she has th' memories an' powers o' three girls. Her mind's dominant, but she's havin' a rough time dealin' with it all. Left her with this hard shell she uses to keep others at a distance. She plays th' wild, irreverent bad girl, but ya can see through th' act if ya know what t' look f'r."

He paused. "'Course the other three didn't exactly have a holiday. They were experimented on, beaten an' put through hell. I think th' other girl, Jubilee, mighta been raped, but she hasn't said nothin' about it. They seem t' be recoverin' better 'n Faith, but I'm no psychologist."

He put the cigar out and prepared to head back inside. "They been travelin' with me f'r a few months now. Even if I hadn't come out here t' help you kids, I'd'a brought them here soon as I figured they could handle it."

She followed him in. "Just when I think I've had it rough, I hear about other kids and thank God I had it so easy."

He smiled and grunted. "If ya wanted an easy life, ya shouldn't have been born a Slayer."

Buffy blinked at the illogic of that statement, then laughed. "Mr. Logan, you have a twisted sense of humor."

That evening, they had a dessert party similar to the lunch where Buffy was welcomed into the group. Faith Braddock, call sign Rogue, was tall and stacked. Her hair was raven black and her features were definitely Asian. Apparently, one of the girls she'd been forced to merge with was Japanese and the other was British. Since Faith never had a surname she cared about, she chose to use the name of the girl whose body she now occupied.

"In addition to my damn absorbing powers," Faith told the group when asked, "I'm a telepath. I worked out a few tricks I can do in addition to the basic reading and controlling minds. I can psychically make myself invisible and I can manifest this psychic sword. It's a pretty good weapon against humans; stunning, but not killing them. For some reason, it's extremely deadly to vamps and almost as effective against most demons. I'm also super strong, nearly invulnerable and can fly."

Neil Gates, call sign Falcon, was a tall black teen with dreadlocks and raven fletched wings. "I'm extremely tough and strong. I'm also a bit of a telepath in my own right, but I can only do it with animals; mostly birds. I also have this ability to absorb energy, store it, magnify it and fire it back. The wings, strength, durability and animal telepathy bit I got naturally. The energy powers I got from the Initiative."

It was pretty clear he wasn't in a mood to go into details, so Buffy didn't push it.

The other girl was named Jubilee Harris. She was a valley girl and a skater; not unlike Buffy herself. She was given the call sign Equinox. She could absorb, generate, manipulate and even animate fire and ice. She even flew riding a skateboard that alternated randomly between the two. Whereas Faith acted like a party girl and Neil was rather taciturn, Jubilee was . . . . The best word Buffy could think to describe her was spunky.

The last of the four was a black kid named Parker Gunn. At fourteen, he would be the youngest student at the school. Along with Willow, he'd also be one of the smartest. He wasn't as shy as she was, though. In fact, he was insatiably curious. His call sign would be Longshot. His power, which he refused to demonstrate, was chaos.

"I promised to never use my powers unless I'm on a mission or in the Danger Room," he told the others. "I create these bolts of pure chaos. I can't control what happens when I fire them, but it's always destructive and totally unpredictable. I cut loose at that Initiative facility when Mr. Logan rescued us and made the roof collapse. Probability goes right out the window when I'm around."

Jubilee laughed. "When he says unpredictable, he means it. I'm not sure the bolt actually even hit anything, but the support columns holding that roof up suddenly dissolved. I had to put up an ice dome to keep us from being crushed along with the bad guys."

Neil nodded, but didn't smile. "It took us almost an hour to dig our way out of the ruins. By then, anyone not caught in the collapse had escaped."

Buffy noted a lot of unspoken tension between the two boys. She wasn't sure what was up, but didn't let it get to her. Later, she cornered Jubilee.

"Please don't think I'm a nosy busybody," she said quietly, "but I'm picking up on a lot of tension between Neil and Parker. Is there something we need to worry about?"

Jubilee understood. "Good eye. Yeah. There's tension. They're friends, but the Initiative really screwed with them. Like Neil said, the energy absorption and channeling bit was done TO him. One of the geeks at the facility wondered if Neil was tough enough to resist Parker. He forced Parker to blast Neil and keep blasting. Parker refused until they threatened to kill me if Parker didn't or if he stopped before he was told."

She shuddered. "It had to be incredibly painful. I'll never forget the sound of Neil's screams. When it was over, he had third and fourth degree burns on his chest. He's still recovering and will have the scars of it the rest of his life. Neil doesn't consciously blame Parker, but . . . . Of course, it doesn't help that Parker blames himself. It's a tough sitch for both of them."

"Wow," Buffy responded. "That sucks . . . . Did that sound as lame to you as it did to me?"

Jubilee laughed encouragingly. "A little, but you're forgiven. I hide it pretty well, but it even freaks me out sometimes. You're lucky the Professor found you before the Initiative did. We're lucky Logan found us when he did. Now, I want to forget everything we've been through and go back to being your average, everyday, teenage, super-powered Slayer."

Buffy hugged the other girl impulsively. "Works for me. What do you think about hitting the malls with me on Saturday? After we deal with this Harvest mess and kick a whole ton of butt, that is. We're both new in town, we can get Jean and Willow to give us the ten penny tour and pick up some school clothes. Heaven forbid the Professor should ever let us use his precious fabricator to make something other than uniforms."

"Shopping?" Jubilee laughed and hugged Buffy back. "Now you're talking my language, girl."

Buffy smiled. "I'm trilingual, myself. I speak fluent English, sarcasm and shopping."

"Sarcasm? That's Faith's native tongue."

TRAINING BEGINS:

Tuesday morning found fourteen young Slayers in uniform on the floor of the Danger Room as Scott addressed them. "Okay. Given our numbers, the Professor has decided to divide us into two strike teams. I will lead Gold Team. Storm will lead Blue Team. The assignments to each team wasn't left up to either of us. It was done by the Professor himself based on criteria he hasn't chosen to share with either of us."

He cleared his throat a little apologetically. "Be that as it may, I have to admit he made some good choices. Gold Team will consist of myself, Phoenix, Gambit, Shadowcat, Dawnstar, Colossus and Longshot. Havok, Destiny, Nightcrawler, Rogue, Equinox and Falcon will be on Blue Team with Storm."

The scene changed to an identical representation of the interior of the Bronze. "This will be our battleground Friday; at least one of them. For those of you who are new to town, it's a teen club in town called the Bronze. You've all had time to read the mission briefing. Are there any questions?"

"Is this place really owned and run by a vampire?" Faith spoke up.

"Yes." Scott's response was direct. "Angel was turned in the fifteenth century. Three hundred years later, he was cursed by a vengeful gypsy clan who returned his soul; the greatest curse you can put on a vampire. He's made the Bronze the safest place in Sunnydale. He's one of a kind and if not quite a friend, he's definitely NOT an enemy."

Neil was next. "How many bystanders can we expect?"

Phoenix answered that one. "The Bronze has a maximum legal occupancy of three hundred. As this is the biggest party of the year, we expect the place to be full and then some. It's a converted warehouse, though, so even at full capacity there's going to be a lot of room to maneuver."

Scott nodded. "In addition to his normal staff, Angel has hired a dozen members of the Underground for extra security. I want to stress this, they AREN'T combatants. They're trained to defend themselves with crosses, wards, holy water and other methods, but fighting will be our job. They'll be focusing on getting kids out of the line of fire and into safe zones being set up as we speak."

He paused. "Prof. Xavier, Mr. Giles and Dr. McCoy will be monitoring events in the city from here. Mr. Logan and Angel will be backing us up at the Bronze. Don't count on them, however. They're going to have their own concerns. Taking out the Vessel and the other vamps is going to be our job."

"How many vampires are we expecting?" Neil asked.

"We don't know," Scott told him honestly. "Enough to corral three hundred terrified teenagers. According to even the most conservative estimates, the Master controls as many as sixty vamps. Given how important this Harvest is to him, we need to be ready to face them all. That means we could be outnumbered as much as four to one. Not good odds, but we've faced worse."

Several people nodded, but he wasn't finished. "Remember, the Bronze is only one of the threats we need to deal with Friday. The Master's efforts will be focused there, but we still have the Black Queen and her brood to deal with. He's not likely going to expect us to be on hand to stop him. She, on the other hand, is going to be looking for us; specifically for Dawnstar. Given her penchant for using innocents against us, we expect her to make a big show endangering as many people at once as possible. Since she can't get into the Bronze, she could strike at any of a dozen other locations with a hundred or more people."

"We have a list of her most likely buffets yet?" Xander asked.

"There are too many possibilities to cover them all." Scott informed him, "but we have several high probability candidates. Sunnydale College is going to be throwing its first mixer of the school year. The Sunnydale Country Club is having a big coming out party for a handful of local society girls. The old Orpheum Theater is holding a Rocky Horror event that could have as many as a hundred or more people. Finally, the Sunnydale Dolphins, our local professional baseball team, has a shot at their league play offs this year and has an important game Friday night."

He sighed just slightly. "Unfortunately, there are more than a dozen other events that night that could be targeted just as easily. That's why the Professor and the others will be monitoring things from up here. For all we know, she could decide to attack multiple venues at once."

"That's what I'd do," Falcon announced. "The vamps and demons know you guys operate out of this area, so what better way to take us down than to make us spread ourselves too thin."

"That's a definite possibility," Scott admitted. "That's why Prof. Xavier's quietly flying in some reinforcements. The Master or Selene - - probably both - - could be watching the mansion, so they won't be coming here, but they will be coming into town and laying low until Friday night. Some people that graduated in June and their friends arrive tomorrow. Others are already here, or on their way. Even the Watchers Council seems to be pulling out all the stops for this one. Given the way they feel about the Professor's methods, that's saying something."

Equinox cracked the gum she was chewing. "Logan mentioned them a few times. He didn't think much of them. Who are they?"

Storm frowned. "The Watchers Council is a group of retired Slayers and Watchers who oversee operations around the world. They've been around as long as there have been Slayers and have very precise ideas on how things should be done. The Professor disagrees with several of their preconceptions. They'd like to shut him down, but he's got the funds and backing to operate independent of them. Besides, he gets better results than they do."

Hawkeye took over. "If you're lucky, you'll never have to deal with them. If you do, remember what Prof. Xavier told me a few years ago. They need us, not the other way around. We're the ones doing what they either can't or no longer care to do. They may have convinced themselves and a lot of others that what they do is relevant, important and even integral, but we can and do get along perfectly well without them."


	5. Chapter 5

**Writer's Notes (7/4/16): Chapters 1-4 have been edited and reorganized somewhat. I originally had no intention to add the Scythe from Season 7 to this story, but my characters had different ideas. I've made it part of the "Chosen One's" legacy and had Wesley help her find it shortly before he died. This caused me to have to go back and retroactively add it to some earlier scenes. I corrected some typos and smoothed out some rough areas while I was at it. Enjoy. All comments, critiques, suggestions and observations welcome.**

THE MASTER:

The ancient nosferatu was born in the Carpathian Mountains during the height of the Roman Empire. He'd long forgotten the name he'd been given when he was alive, but for the past seven hundred years, he'd gone by the name Heinrich Nest. To his followers, children and enemies, however, he was merely the Master.

On Thursday evening, as he rose from the pool of blood that was his customary repose in the small cavern that had been his cell for the past century, he smiled gently at the woman who knelt before him. She was his favorite. In all his long life, he'd only had one other favorite and Selene had betrayed him. Darla, however, had been his favorite since the day he found her, a poor prostitute dying of a venereal disease. Even if her cursed progeny, Angelus, never showed him the deference, respect and obedience he deserved, Darla had never failed to give him her very best.

"Welcome, child." The Master's voice was deep and resonant. "I trust your mission has been successful."

She looked up to him adoringly. "It has, Master. The Black Queen suspects you're up to something, but she knows nothing of the Harvest. Her purpose for being in Sunnydale has nothing to do with us. I believe she intends to use the alignment and proximity to the Hellmouth to perform some blood magic ritual. I haven't been able to learn much about it, but I believe it requires the blood of a Slayer."

He nodded. "Excellent. What of the news that Blade has been seen in town?"

She frowned. "Our agents monitoring the Bronze tell me he was seen visiting Angelus only days ago in the company of three teenagers . . . probably three of the Slayers he's been traveling with lately. He could be a problem, but if he interferes tomorrow, his blood will join that of Angelus and the others as it empowers you."

The Master took a seat on the throne-like chair. "The dhampyr and the traitor have been associates for many years. I agree that we need to take additional precautions, but I'm not overly concerned about his presence in Sunnydale at this time. In fact, even if he survives the Harvest, I look forward to the end of our rivalry with great anticipation and pleasure once I complete my apotheosis."

Off to the side, one of the newest members of the nest felt great anticipation of his own. Jesse McNally had the great misfortune to run into Darla in an otherwise vacant park after leaving the Bronze Sunday. He was taking a shortcut on the way home after being brutally rejected by Cordelia and laughed at by all her preppy friends. When Darla came on to him, he thought it was his lucky night. Then her face changed and his life ended.

That had been three days ago. He figured his friends Xander and Willow would be at the Bronze Friday night. More importantly, the beautiful Cordelia would be there. She so brutally spurned his advances that he was looking forward to the look of terror that would cross her face just before he killed her. Her rejection was bad enough, but no one laughed at him . . . at least not any longer. He would teach her . . . and the sluts she hung out with. Of course, he realized they belonged to the Vessel, but that didn't mean he couldn't play with them a bit before turning them over to whoever the Master chose. They would regret their rejection of him, then they would die.

The Master addressed his gathered faithful. "It is time to choose the Vessel. I've dwelt long and hard on this and have decided to use Luke."

The massive vampire stepped forward and knelt at the Master's feet. "I am humbled, Master. I will proudly serve as the extension of your will and tool of the destruction of your enemies. I won't let you down."

The Master placed a hand gently on his fanatically loyal servant's head. "I know you won't, Luke. Go and prepare yourself. In two days, you will rise in my name and vanquish my enemies, obtaining for me the power I need to escape this prison and complete the process began over a century ago. Once transformed, I will lead us into the world above; not as outcasts, but as conquerors."

Cheers roared throughout the chamber and he paused to bask in it before continuing. "Rise, Darla, and take your place at my right hand. My charge to you is, if anything, even more important. You are to lead our force. It will be your hand that is to deliver the traitor, Angelus, to the Vessel. Even as Luke will represent me on that night, so will you; perhaps even more so. How goes the recruitment?"

She smiled reverently as she stepped up and turned to face the crowd from beside the throne. "Permit me to introduce our newest member, Master. Jesse, step forward and present yourself."

Jesse walked up and knelt as he'd been told. These were powerful people and he didn't mind showing them respect. In time, they would make him powerful beyond all his pathetic dreams. "I am honored, Master."

"With him," Darla continued, "our numbers exceed one hundred and fifty loyal servants. Over a hundred are present in this city for your ascension. With your permission, I would take the bulk of them with me to the Bronze, leaving some of your most loyal here as a precaution to deal with any threat the traitor, Selene, might pose . . . just in case."

The Master nodded dismissively to his latest lackey, then more significantly to Darla. "I have nothing to fear from the Black Queen, but I honor your prudence, my daughter. Take Luke and the fodder, along with as many others as you deem necessary and don't fail. Know as you do so, that you are my most loyal and most favored servant. I am proud of you."

He turned to the gathered throng. "The dawn approaches, my children. Go to your places and rest. Rest and prepare. Before the sun rises a second time, we will be on our way to final and true mastery of this pathetic world. All will bow before my will and those who don't will be eradicated. Our time has come!"

Another shout of joy rocked the cavern as the Master basked in the accolades of his faithful. Yes. It would be a good day; a good day indeed and a fitting beginning of his inevitable rule.

THE HARVEST:

Friday night came far quicker than the Professor would have liked, but Buffy was just as happy to have the waiting over and done with. She hated the waiting; hated it even more than the terror and evil. Terror and evil she could fight. Waiting just had to be put up with. The teams spent the day relaxing, of all things. A few more hours of training wasn't going to make much difference at this point, but being well rested and focused might.

Finally, shortly before sunset, dressed in their best party clothes, they gathered in the mansion's foyer to receive a final briefing. Looking over the two teams, Charles Xavier couldn't help but smile and yet there was a sad resignation and concern in the expression. They were so young to have so much depending on them; so young and so few. He couldn't have been prouder of them.

He nodded. "Be careful and stay alert, my X-Men. I would that you could have had weeks to prepare for this mission instead of days, but there's nothing we can do about that. As long as you stick with your teams and cover each other's' backs, you can do this. Trust your training."

Scott spoke up. "You all have your costumes. When the vamps start their attack, Angel is going to have someone kill the lights, giving you the opportunity to change without having to duck into a phone booth. The darkness won't bother the vamps and you all have superior night vision, plus the light enhancing lenses in you masks and headsets."

He paused. "It will also increase the panic, but that can't be helped. On the good side, however, the less the innocents can see, the less they'll have to be traumatized over. Given the tendency of people to find rational 'explanations' to things they can't understand, the whole thing's likely to be chalked up to a juvenile prank as long as we can keep them from dying."

Xavier took back over. "Each team will be taking one of the school's minivans to the party. You'll be arriving separately and know where to station yourselves: gold team on the floor; blue team in the upper levels. We expect the vampires to come through the main entrance, but have to be ready for anything. We don't know how they intend to breach Angel's wards and have no idea what effect it will have on the rest of the Bronze's security."

There wasn't a lot more to be said, so the teams headed out. The drive to town was quiet and tense. They all knew the stakes and not even Xander had the heart to make wisecracks.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot, Buffy looked around at the others and smiled. "Party time."

"Depends on your definition of party," Scott responded drily. "We're on the clock."

Blue Team was already in the gantries and platforms of the club when Gold Team arrived. Falcon saw the others arrive and sent them a quick message. "This is definitely the place, not that there was ever much question. All the vermin in have left the building. They must have sensed trouble coming. Even the birds have fled the immediate area."

Blending with the small, but rapidly growing crowd, Scott and Jean took to the dance floor. Buffy got an impish thought and took Riley's hand, leading him to the floor as well, but not before turning to the others. "Spread out and blend. You look like a Starfleet review."

Parker took a seat at the soda bar and Xander and Willow tried to dance, but failed miserably. After one song, they gave up and found a small table to sit at near the main entrance.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Riley warned Buffy on a private comm channel.

"Nobody is," Buffy informed him. "Some are just better at faking it than others are. Just move with the music and pretend to have fun. The place is already filling up. If the vamps want the biggest bang for their massacre, they'll have to make their move before too much longer."

"You seem awfully relaxed given the threats we're facing," he complimented her. "Particularly given the personal threat on your life."

"I'm just good at hiding it," she admitted. "Besides, becoming panic girl won't help. Dealing with the Harvest is likely to be the easy part. It's the other ritual that has me wigging, but we can't even deal with that until we deal with this first."

"You have an interesting definition of easy." He smirked slightly.

"I just hope no one brings a flame thrower to the party." Buffy laughed hollowly.

"Heads up, kiddies," Blade's growl came over the general comm. "Darla just walked up to the door."

"So that's how she plans to do it," Angel, who had been given a communicator of his own for the evening, said as the blonde vampire was stopped by an invisible barrier and pulled a knife from her blouse. "Angelus gave her that knife nearly three hundred years ago. Blast it. It could just do the trick."

Darla sliced downward with some difficulty, as if cutting through a sparkling curtain that resisted, but inevitably fell, allowing her gang to flood into the club.

"Crap," Xander gasped from his position. "Jesse's with them. Oh, man. This is gonna suck."

DEATH OF A FRIEND:

While the last vampire turned and padlocked the door, the demon that had been Jesse McNally swaggered up to the table with Xander and Willow. "So, where's your foxy friend, Cordelia? She here tonight? Our last encounter ended so unsatisfactorily. I've been practically dying for another go at her."

"Jesse, man," Xander sighed as Willow froze and squeaked. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"Don't be." Jesse didn't care how Xander seemed to know what he was as he morphed his appearance. "I'm not. It's the best thing that could have ever happened. You have no idea of the power I have. Now, I asked you a question. Where's your friend Cordelia? I wanna play with her before I haveta turn her over to the Vessel."

That's when the lights went out. Xander activated his watch, then grabbed and charged the table, throwing it at Jesse, who moved with preternatural agility. The table missed, but the explosion sent the young vampire flying, giving Willow time to recover and activate her own costume change.

"Who the hell's playing with the lights?" A large vampire leaped on the stage, sending the band fleeing, but not before he grabbed a girl and pulled her too him. "It won't save you."

An arrow suddenly pierced the vampire's hand, forcing him to release the girl with a grunt of pain.

"It won't have to," Hawkeye announced calmly. "I'm guessing you're the Vessel. Thanks for showing up. It saves us from having to hunt you down. I'm afraid you won't be funneling any power to the Master if we have anything to say about it."

"With the ward down," Kendra announced, "we have vampires coming in through the fire escapes and skylights. We're dealing with them."

Buffy and Riley quickly changed clothes and Riley transformed into his metal form. It was at that point that Buffy realized Riley didn't carry any of the standard vampire fighting arsenal. An instant later, she understood why. A vampire jumped down on them from one of the landings and Riley shoved his fist upward to meet him. The vamp impaled itself on Riley's metal arm and instantly dusted.

"I guess that's one way to deal with a bloodsucker," she quipped as another vamp attacked and the big guy calmly decapitated her with the palm of his hand. "You're sure efficient."

"Thank you," he responded as she kicked a vampire in the gut, then staked him through the back when he bent over. "You're not bad yourself."

Back near the entrance, Jesse made a dive for Willow, reveling in the thought of the terror he believed he was causing the mouse of a girl. She simply phased and he flew through her, right into a stake held by Xander, which went into the center of his chest.

"You missed." He gloated right up until the stake exploded, sending shards into his heart and dusting him.

"No, Jesse," Xander said sadly, "I didn't."

Xander then turned and expanded his quarterstaff, his eyes glowing red with rage as his tears fell unashamedly. "One of you bloodsuckers just cost me one of my oldest friends. I'd love to take all my grief and frustration out on you personally, but I don't know which one you are. Sucks for the rest of you, because now I'm just going to have to take it out on all of you."

The quarterstaff became a blur of motion except for the points where it hit a target or when Xander held the staff in the crook of his left arm to palm a marble, card or poker chip from one of the pockets in his duster. Nine vampires met their end at his hand before his rage was burned out, leaving him feeling hollow and miserable inside. None of it would bring Jesse back.

Willow was shy and retiring, and looked every inch the girl victim, but had several centuries of martial arts knowledge placed in her mind by the spirit of an immortal ninja called Ogun. Xavier managed to purge the invader, but Willow now knew enough about martial arts to offer classes for the other students at the Academy. She knew Kenpo, Hapkido, Judo, Savate, Krav Maga and Muay Thai, as well as several styles of Kung-Fu and a dozen other forms, but her favorite art was Aikido, because of its focus on turning an opponent's strength against them.

When used on vampires and other demons, the combination of her skills and powers left them partially merged with the ground, walls or furniture. This, of course, invariably resulted in death and in the case of vampires an explosive cloud of dust. She didn't acquit herself quite as well as Xander, but still tallied five kills to her tally in a very few minutes.

The girl didn't have much of a temper; much the opposite, really. Seeing the pain her friend, Xander, was going through and remembering the other friend whose life had been cut so short, however, made her madder than she'd once believed possible. It worried her, however, how much she enjoyed doing so.

BLUES:

Up above, three members of Blue Team focused first on clearing potential victims out of the battle zone and to the relative safety of the warded areas below. Storm lifted people on the wind and deposited them gently. Falcon flew people down and Havok grabbed people at whirlwind speed and took them down. For every civilian one of the others got down, Havok got three or more to safety.

The rest of the team had powers that weren't quite as effective for crowd control, so they took the brunt of the incoming attack while the three did their job. Anytime one or more vampires managed to corral a group of terrified teens, Blue Team was there to deal with them. Still, if the vampires' goal had been to simply dine, instead of feeding victims to the Vessel, dozens would have died.

Rogue manifested her psi-sword and began cutting vampires down like she wasn't even trying. Normally, the sword wouldn't kill, but vampires were different. She didn't understand the physics, but her psi-swords were even more effective against them than stakes.

She needed to land a solid hit, but it didn't need to be a decapitation and she didn't need to hit the heart. Vampires fell like chaff as she cathartically released all the rage and pain she normally kept contained and took it out on them. She took down seven vampires in as many seconds. As she faced last one she dissolved her sword, reached in with her gloved hand and ripped its heart out.

Although she normally barraged opponents with sarcasm and insults, she was silent this night. Her expression was totally neutral the whole time. She might just as easily been vacuuming a floor as ending the existence of seven vampires. Had any of her friends been in a position to notice, they would have been shocked; even horrified to see Rogue's total lack of passion and almost psychopathic focus.

Equinox used her flames to turn vampires into ash, then absorbed the flames in order to keep them from burning down the building. This, of course, left a trail of ice in her wake. She rode a flying skateboard that was comprised alternatingly of fire and ice. At one point a vampire leapt on her back only to be incinerated by her personal damage field.

The main thing she had to be careful of was to make sure her targets didn't run around once they were burning. She had a limit to the amount of heat she could absorb. Fortunately, the intensity of flame she could generate was more than sufficient to almost instantly kill a person or turn a vampire into ash. Her final vampire she froze solid to balance out her thermal energies, then let Falcon shatter the body.

Wild but efficient seemed to be the style the four kids rescued by Logan exercised. Even Falcon, the most sedate of the quartet, pulled some interesting stunts; at one point grabbing a vampire and throwing it with great force onto some stacked chairs where it was staked through the heart by a wooden chair leg.

Nightcrawler was pretty flashy in his own right once he was able to transform into his demon form. He quickly pulled three extremely sharp sabers from the athletic bag he had with him. With a sword in each hand and the third one gripped by his tail, he specialized in decapitations and made it look like a dance. Between his ability to blend with shadows and his teleportation powers, the vampires never knew where he was coming from.

Once she cleared the last of the innocents from the area, Storm summoned a tightly controlled whirlwind and had it suck up and shred a wooden table. The pair of vampires she caught in it were torn apart by hurricane force splinters until the eventually dusted. Whether some of the shards in the cyclone hit them in the heart or they just finally took so much damage that the demonic entities possessing the bodies vacated them was irrelevant. All that mattered was that there were two less vampires to worry about.

When another vampire tried to jump her, Storm wheeled and struck him with lightning. The amount of energy she channeled into that bolt would have killed an elephant. The vamp never stood a chance; neither did any of the others she'd face that night. Yes, vampires were notoriously difficult to kill, but they weren't invulnerable and Storm, like the rest of the team, knew exactly what it took.

It was Havok, however, with his impossible speed who would win the vampire lottery that night. Once the last of the non-combatants were cleared from the above ground area, he ran a final check for any stragglers, then went to work. He figured it was only fair to give the others a head start, after all. Once his search was finished, however, he took a stake in each hand and went to work.

He was a blur moving through the various gangways, ladders, stairs and platforms that formed the maze that was the Bronze above the floor. Wherever he went, vampires vanished, leaving clouds of dust in their place. He personally took out twelve before he ran out of targets.

Even Destiny was surprisingly at least somewhat effective given that this was her first real fight and she was still a reluctant Slayer at best. She didn't want to think about how she instinctively knew what each person intended to do and just focused on not being where an attack landed. She also didn't want to think how she seemed to know where they would be several seconds in advance, but didn't let that stop her from having a stake waiting when one of them appeared exactly where she knew he would.

As much as she hated what had been done to her, she had to admit that kicking butt was surprisingly enjoyable; even strangely fulfilling. Of course, she'd ever let anyone else know that. She illogically blamed Xavier for everything she'd been through in the past weeks. She'd never forgive him and his Slayers for taking away the life she loved.

The fight up in the rafters was brutal and short. The seven Slayers took out more than forty vampires without team injury or civilian casualty. Of course, the vamps up there were cannon fodder, but it was still a fairly impressive feat. Too bad they didn't have a moment to stop and pat themselves on the back.

GOLDEN:

Down below, it was Phoenix who took charge of clearing the potential victims away from the combat zone. With her combination of telepathy and telekinesis, it wasn't very hard. Still, the vamps did manage to gather nearly twenty kids on the stage where Luke was intimidating the band.

Hawkeye personally put a half dozen arrows into Luke's heart, but they didn't seem to have any effect on him. "Guess being the Vessel makes you immune to staking."

"It does." Luke gloated. "I'm going to begin the feeding with you. Yours will be but the first blood to empower my Master."

Hawkeye flipped back and kicked the vampire in the jaw before landing on his feet a few yards away. He hoped to draw the Vessel away from potential victims. He figured this vamp would have to be pretty dense to fall for it, but decided it was at least worth a try. No one was quite as surprised as he was when the creature leapt on him from the stage. He wasn't sure if it was stupidity or hubris, but it served his purpose. As long as the Vessel was focused on him, it wasn't draining the life from others. Of course letting the vampire focus on him didn't mean letting it hit him.

Longshot was extremely reluctant to use the greatest of his powers. He didn't have any control over them and this was a building filled with innocents. There was no way he wanted to accidentally bring the roof down or something. That didn't mean he wasn't doing his part. Not being able to rely on his special abilities caused him to focus all the more on his more general Slayer abilities and there, Parker Gunn would be over shadowed by no one.

It didn't hurt that he was also supernaturally lucky; not in the same way that Buffy was, where she subconsciously shifted the odds one way or another, but more in the sense that things simply fell into place for him to impossible degrees; particularly when he was fighting. Two vampires found this out the hard way when one of them tripped, not only falling on the stake Longshot just happened to be holding in the exactly the right position, but knocking his companion over so she fell on a randomly placed chunk of wooden debris.

When Longshot saw Hawkeye fighting the largest vampire he'd ever seen, he hadn't keyed into the earlier comments between the two in the first chaotic moments of the attack, but made the guess that this could be the Vessel they were looking for. None of the group of vamps holding hostages on the stage seemed to be feeding and they all watched the fight between the pair. It didn't take a genius to figure it out

Figuring it was worth the risk, he leaped over a pair of vamps trying to corner him, leaving them to both face plant into the club's floor rather embarrassingly, and landed behind the vampire named Luke. He shoved the big man in the center of the back, releasing his power as a coruscating rainbow of chaos cascaded over the creature. The result was nothing short of spectacular. The big vampire's entire body spasmed as bones broke, and muscles and cartilage tore, leaving him barely able to move, much less defend himself.

Scott considered the results critically in an instant. He was impressed. If this kid could learn to control his powers, he'd be a serious force to be reckoned with. For that matter, he'd be devastating no matter how much or little control he ever gained.

Seeing the Vessel go down in a scream of pain and rage, the other vampires reacted with a single panicked focus. They had to protect Luke. If the Harvest was aborted because they failed to protect the Vessel, there would be hell and far worse to pay if any of them survived long enough to return to the Master.

Hawkeye and Longshot were inundated by a wave of undead bodies before they could finish the big man off. The two more than held their own, sending several of the creatures to their final end, but were shoved back and away from their target, giving him time to recover from his catastrophic injuries, which he did in just a few seconds. They were too busy fighting to keep from being dragged under to stop him.

Seeing the exchange from where she fought beside Colossus, Buffy made a rapid decision. Scott and Parker were getting pummeled pretty badly. They were holding their own, but forced on the defensive; a losing proposition when fighting vampires. She figured Riley could more than handle himself, so she nodded to him, then leaped to the side, grabbed the Scythe, which she brought with her in an athletic bag of her own and ran towards the Vessel who was being helped up by the blonde who had broken the ward and another woman.

She brought the blade of the scythe down on the shoulder of the unfamiliar woman, cleaving almost cleanly through her torso in one swipe. "Suck this!"

All attention in the room suddenly turned to Buffy when she drew the weapon; at least the attention of her fellow Slayers and the surviving vampires. The vampires sensed the power being brought to play and tremored with fear and despair. The Slayers instinctively sensed it as well and were impressed; even hopeful.

The vampire named Luke stared at the weapon in Buffy's hand. The demon occupying the corpse recognized death when it saw it. Luke roared and tried to leap, but Buffy swung with all her might and severed his head with the axe blade. His body was ash before it hit the ground.

FAMILY BUSINESS:

The Harvest had been averted. The surviving vampires, now outnumbered by fourteen Slayers, panicked and ran. Four of them made it out of the building. Darla wouldn't be one of them. Even as she used her adrenalin charged vampiric strength to try to rip the chain and padlock her own men had used to secure the main entrance, a form as silent as death moved behind her.

Suddenly she stopped and spoke without turning. "Hello, Angelus."

"Darla." Angel's voice was cold as she turned to face him.

"Congratulations." Her voice dripped with contempt. "You and your little pets won the night. It won't matter in the end, of course. The Master's final victory is unstoppable."

"We've done pretty well up to now."

Seeing what was about to happen, Buffy called out and hurled the scythe. "Angel. Catch."

The man born Warren Worthington III, who terrorized the world for nearly three centuries as Angelus, the demon with the face of an angel, caught the weapon with one hand without turning to look, spun it and plunged the stake end into the black heart of the woman who originally condemned him to this existence. "Good bye, Darla."

Miles away, the Master, sensing the loss of the link he shared with the Vessel screamed in fury. His minions had failed him. Then he felt the death of his most beloved and knew in his ancient bones that Angelus had to have been responsible. Screaming again; this time in loss and frustration, he swore in his heart to bring hell itself down on the traitor and anyone else involved in this debacle.

Back at the Bronze, as Buffy walked up to him, and the other Slayers gathered around, Angel considered the weapon, then handed it back to her. "Nice weapon. I've heard legends about it for centuries, but I wasn't sure it was real until tonight."

She smiled. "An old friend discovered it was being guarded in an old convent east of LA. He took me to it and had me pull it from a big rock."

He nodded. "Heck of a friend."

She sighed. "He was. I never admitted it while he was still alive, but he was. He told me to never disrespect it and save it for the big battles where it could make a real difference."

Once they all changed back into street clothes and weapons were secured back into athletic bags, Angel signaled for the lights to be turned back on. "Okay, folks. The excitement's over. I do apologize for the confusion. Someone thought it would be funny to cut the main breaker and play some stupid mind games to terrorize people. They've been dealt with and thrown out. I can assure you they'll never be welcome here again."

He laughed as people began to absorb the story. By dawn, everyone would swear it was the gospel truth. Even after nearly five hundred years, Angel never ceased to be amazed at how people would buy just about any excuse not to have to admit that vampires and demons actually existed. He hoped that never had to change.

He signaled towards the stage area. "The party can now continue! For the rest of the night, food and drinks are on the Bronze. Strike up the band!"

Hopefully, this year's "End of the Summer Party" at the Bronze would be talked about for months; not for the body count, but as the best party of the year. Blue Team, Gold Team, Angel and Logan wouldn't be able to enjoy it, however. As the food and sodas flowed, the broken furniture was cleared away, and the patrons flooded back to the dance floor without a thought of where all the dust on the floor came from, the unsung heroes gathered in one of the backrooms just off the main floor.

"Good work, people," Hawkeye offered a rare compliment, but followed it with a rapid admonition. "That's just one of our jobs tonight, however. The Master's nest has probably been decimated, but we still have to deal with the Black Queen. Phoenix, any word from the other teams?"

"Nothing yet," she told him, "but the night is still young. The Professor wants Gold Team to remain in place here while Blade takes Blue Team to the old church Selene's been using and tries to find a trail they can follow. Mirage is leading Red Team and Cannonball is leading Silver Team. They're already out patrolling the city. There's also a Black Team out there somewhere. We've got nearly forty Slayers and Watchers in town tonight. So far, they've run into some solo vampires and a couple small groups, but still no sign of a coordinated effort."

"They will." Scott nodded and turned to Logan. "Good hunting. Call us if you need any help."

After Logan and Blue Team left, Scott put a hand on Parker's shoulder. "Thanks for the save, Longshot. You good? You got pretty heavily pummeled after you took down the Vessel."

Parker shrugged. "A little bruised and sore, but functional. I'll be feeling it in the morning, but right now, I'm good."

Scott rubbed his neck and grimaced meaningfully. "We'll both be feeling it in the morning."

He moved to Buffy. "I knew you had that weapon, of course, but I've never seen you use it before. Impressive."

Buffy considered the weapon in her hands. "Wesley always told me to save it for the big stuff. Seems a waste to use it against something I can kill with a stake . . . . It seems . . . I don't know . . . disrespectful, I guess. Know what I'm saying?"

He nodded. "I understand. Mr. Giles says it's linked to Excalibur, of all things. Keep it close. You're likely to need it again before this is over."

THE BLACK QUEEN:

In the shadows outside the Bronze, the Black Queen watched as the pitiful dregs of the Master's force fled with their tails between their legs. Her guess had been right. She could sense the presence of her prey inside. Her blood practically sang with the power of it. She could also sense that the sheep lover's wards were now down. She'd have to thank the Master for opening the door for her . . . just before she killed him, of course.

With a regal nod, she sent her forces flooding in through the openings before those inside could secure them. She had more than twice the force the Master had sent and surely some of the defenders must have sacrificed their lives to stop that attack. She had little concern regarding her chances; not that she intended to leave anything to chance; particularly not with that annoying little man, Blade, having been seen in the area. She would overwhelm the place with sheer force and not give them even a second to breathe.

Angel and Gold Team were just about to start filtering back into the party when the first screams reached them. There was no conversation. The X-Men changed into their uniforms and rushed out of the back room almost as a single unit. Angel sighed and hoped they all survived. For that matter, he just hoped the Bronze survived the night.

There was no darkness to cover them this time and the element of surprise wasn't on their side. By the time Buffy stepped through the door, more than a dozen partiers and staff were already either dead or dying and more vampires than she had ever seen before were flooding into the Bronze from every exit. Averting the Harvest had been a cake walk compared to what they now faced. She hated it when she was right.

She whispered one word over her communicator. "Flashbulb."


End file.
